


fix you

by katsukisaggypants



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Abuse, Akaashi Keiji Is So Done, Alcohol, Bokuto Koutarou is a Good Friend, Child Abuse, Depression, Drinking, French Kissing, Holding Hands, Hospitals, Hugs, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Kissing, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Bokuto Koutarou, Overdose, POV Akaashi Keiji, Pining, Romance, Sad Akaashi Keiji, Sleep, Suicide Attempt, bokuto is hurt, heavy mentions of prescription drugs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 16:08:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 34,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29578659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katsukisaggypants/pseuds/katsukisaggypants
Summary: Keiji Akaashi’s brain is fucked up, to say the least. It runs rampant with worry and regret and the one thing that he believes can fix it is Bokuto Koutarou. As cliché as it sounds, he couldn’t be more wrong.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10





	1. Akaashi Keiji

Akaashi Keiji’s first memory of sentience is his 7th birthday party. Contrary to popular belief, _no_ he doesn’t remember the time when he was four and accidentally ran into a sliding glass door. Neither does he remember when he was six and choked on a piece of his own hair. He remembers when he was seven, though, holding his mother’s hand and strolling down the paved concrete walkway beside the frozen lake.

He watched as his exhales turned to steam in the air, the little clouds disappearing and reappearing within seconds. His gloves were caked with snow, dampening the fabric nearly to the skin of his small hand. His boots were slightly too big, his heel rubbing against the rubber that coated the inside. He was sure he’d have blisters, but it didn’t matter, today was his birthday and he was going to have fun.

His nose was numb from the wind, his vision clouded by the snowflakes that rested on his eyelashes, “Mother?”

His mother looked down at him with a soft smile, “Yes, Keiji?”

”I want onigiri.” He shoved his unoccupied hand into the pocket of his coat, hoping she’d consider the offer.

”Okay, Keiji. On the way home I’ll buy you some, alright? Let’s just enjoy our walk.” 

Keiji pressed a small smile onto his face and focused his attention back to his birthday present. Yes, he requested his only birthday present be a walk in the park. Both his mother and father attempted to persuade him into doing something...warmer, but it was to no avail with Keiji. He insisted on going outside, looking at the cherry-blossom trees that had yet to blossom, they weren’t due til March or April.

His mother’s hold on his hand tightened, and he glanced upward to find her nose and cheeks dusted with red and glistening with tears, “What’s wrong, mother?” 

She jabbed at the corner of her eye with her dark blue glove and bit her bottom lip, “It’s- it’s nothing, sweetheart.”

”Okay.”

Keiji’s toes and fingers had gone slightly numb from the cold, and his mother feebly rushed him home. He briskly walked along the white neighborhood that led to his house, completely disregarding his mother’s previous promise of onigiri as the worry for his feet overpowered anything else.

His boots squelched along the hardwood, leaving tiny wet splotches, before he slipped them off with the help of his mother. He pulled his socks off, as well, tossing them into the laundry bin along with his gloves. He padded into his room and picked up his blanket, a dark green quilt that made him feel safe. It smelt like home.

”How was your walk, Keiji?” His father nudged him when he stepped out of his room.

”It was awesome. I love the snow so much!” He smiled and hugged around his father’s hip, nuzzling his nose into the soft cotton of his sweater.

”I’m glad, now come to the kitchen, we have news.” 

Keiji kneeled around the kotatsu and looked up at his parents expectedly, his dark blue eyes swirling with confusion.

”Keiji...” His mother began, but she cut herself off with a small sniffle before leaving the room to grab a tissue. Keiji’s father looked at her knowingly, pity painted all over his face.

”Keiji, your mother and I,” He paused, “We are splitting up.” Sure, Keiji was young, but he knew what _those_ words meant. His parents didn’t love each other anymore.

Keiji felt something in his stomach jerk. It felt as if his throat was closing up, his face quickly growing hot and tingly and uncomfortable. He picked at his nail beds under the table, the skin burning as he peeled at it relentlessly. His lips parted, as if he were to speak, but the words didn’t dare spill off his tongue.

”I’m so sorry Keiji. You’re going to be staying with me in Tokyo.” His father reached out, his hand rubbing soft circles into Keiji’s shoulder. He flinched away and bit back a curse word that bubbled in his throat, picking himself up off the floor and running to his room down the hall. 

Keiji slammed his door and twisted the lock with a ‘click.’ He laid down on the carpet and yelled silent curses, his eyes brimming hot with tears. He ran a hand through his hair, still damp from the snow outside, and sobbed. His wails ricocheted off the walls of his room, echoing in his ears until the only sounds he could muster were soft whimpers. His bottom lip was clenched tightly between his teeth, a faint metallic taste filling his mouth.

There was a knock on the door, followed by a jut of the doorhandle. Keiji did not move from his spot on the floor, curled in his blanket, throat and mouth dry from sobbing. He only stared down at the floor, at the ridged edges of the hardwood, the light of his lamp reflected in the few drops of tears that had spilled from his eyes.

”Keiji please open the door, sweetheart.” His mother. His mother who promised him he’d have fun today, the same mother who’d bought him his quilt, the same mother who cradled him through every nightmare, the same mother who loved him. The mother who stopped loving his dad.

”No.” 

“Please. I’m so sorry, darling. I love you so much. Please unlock your door.”

”No!” He raised his voice, fists clenched in the fabric of his blanket so hard his knuckles turned white. His head throbbed, small pulses that fogged his vision and made him want to just fade away.

His parents did not bother him again that night. He held his pillow and stared up at the ceiling. When did they stop loving each other? Weren’t parents supposed to stay in love forever? What went wrong? Did they stop loving him?

Keiji’s questions were never answered. Not even when he was sitting on the train to Tokyo, staring blankly out the window. His father sat beside him, silently sipping his tea as he flitted through an old copy of Shonen! Jump.

“You know Keiji, school is going to be different.” He only hummed in response, eyes glued to the window.

”You’ll make new friends, and you can play sports with them too.” 

“I had friends back home.” Keiji spat, his top lip curling upwards in disgust. His father looked almost taken-aback at his sudden show of attitude. Served him right.

”You’ll make new ones, son.” His expression turned back to its original bored state, eyes darting back to his magazine.

Keiji could only scoff. He didn’t _want_ to make new friends. He had perfectly fine ones back home, back where he felt safe. The train smelt like aerosol spray, and the seats were too firm against his back. He prayed they’d make it to Tokyo soon.

They did, in fact. Tokyo was much more busy than Keiji expected, with streets full of people in business suits and fancy jewelry. He felt out of place, and stuck close to his father until they reached the rental apartment.

It smelled of the same aerosol sprays, but Keiji found that most of the couch cushions were comfortable. The pull-out bed in the sofa could use some work, but he ruled it out of any possibility of being bad. The rest of the apartment was basic, a kitchen, a bathroom, a decent view of the street below.

It was _fine,_ and that’s why Keiji hated it. He hated how he seamlessly blended into the bustle of Tokyo. Hated how he didn’t hate the apartment, hated how comfortable everything felt. It felt as if he was in another life, a completely different universe, as if he was a completely different Akaashi Keiji. Keiji did not feel like _Keiji_ anymore.

Grade school was not easy. Especially since Keiji wasn’t the most social boy in his class. Sure, a couple of girls asked him for homework answers at the last minute, and he was invited to a few birthday parties. None of that mattered, though, Keiji was still Keiji. Nothing changed aside from his graduation from elementary school, not like it was supposed to, but he thought there was supposed to be some big explosion when he moved to Tokyo. Not some boring train ride and an allergy to aerosol spray.

“So, Mr. Akaashi, what did you do over the weekend?” His teacher’s stare nearly bored holes into his skull as he looked up.

”I visited my mother.” Keiji mumbled before writing the characters of his name in the top corner of his paper, “She’s sick.” He lied through his teeth, figuring nobody would ask questions if the topic was sensitive.

His mother was not sick, anything but, actually. She’d found someone else, a sweet, young guy who accidentally called Keiji ‘Koji’. Keiji didn’t like him very much.

”Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” The exact answer that Keiji expected, it was perfect. He jotted down a few english words that he’d study later. To be honest, he didn’t expect his second year of middle school to be so demanding. Sure, he was a smart kid but that didn’t mean he’d have to lose braincells over some english homework.

The bell rang and Keiji’s class jumped up out of their seats. He remained seated, waiting for all of his classmates to make their way out the door before picking up his supplies and joining them. The summer air was hot, heating up his cheeks and causing sweat to build up underneath the hair that spilled over his forehead.

He made his way toward the school gym, hands tucked into the pockets of his blazer. He set his bag down near the cubbies that lined the inside of the gym and pulled his practice clothes out of it.

”You’re actually playing today? Awesome.” Konoha. The boy in his math class who accidentally knocked his head against a desk because he’d tipped his chair back too far.

”Yes.” Keiji sauntered toward the club room to change, Konoha tailing close behind him, “You’re a setter, right?”

”Yes.” Keiji felt the drowsiness seeping in already, and practice hadn’t even started yet.

”Awesome! I can spike, y’know. Maybe we could do a three on three.”

”There’s not enough people.” Keiji commented while sliding open the door, revealing the other members of the club who he didn’t dare interact with, out of pure fear.

”Fine then, we could,” His voice was muffled by the fabric of his shirt as he slipped it over his head, “We could practice quick attacks.”

Keiji pondered, quick attacks were definitely menacing, and if he could manage to get any spiker to hit his sets he’d be the spitting image of a perfect setter, “Sounds good.”

”Really?”

”Yeah.” Keiji slipped off his own shirt, along with his pants, and walked back into the gym. It reeked of sweat, a nice contrast to the awful, pungent scent of laundry detergent and aerosol.

”Great. Come on, Akaashi, I won’t wait for your little overthinking-fest.” Konoha teased, and Keiji rolled his eyes before grabbing a volleyball and tossing it up in the air. Konoha received it, sending it towards Keiji. It fell perfectly between the diamond-shape his fingers made as they pushed it in front of him. 

Finally, Konoha jumped up and just barely grazed the ball with his fingers, sending it over the net only to be received by their captain, “Konoha! Hit better next time, maybe?”

”Trying my best, man!” He wiped a bit of sweat off his forehead and motioned for Keiji to set slightly lower. So he did, over and over again. It just didn’t feel right, his sets were naturally a bit high, and he figured that someone at least 5’9 needed to hit them. Not that Konoha was bad at hitting or anything, he was just too short, 5’7 put him at a bad disadvantage when it came to Keiji’s sets.

Keiji chewed at his cheek before setting the ball again, and again, and again. His biceps and trapezius muscles burned and he felt as though they’d tear at any moment. His hands and fingers ached every time he stretched them out, his legs could’ve given out at any moment. 

“It’s getting late, why don’t you two get going?” Rintaro Numajiri. A wing-spiker who, for the life of him, could never hit Keiji’s sets. 

“Yeah yeah we’ll be out in a few.” Konoha raised his hands up dismissively and shooed the boy away. Keiji picked the volleyball up off the other side of the court and slipped it in the basket along with the others. Konoha took down the net and wiped the floor while Keiji changed into normal clothes and waited outside until he came out too.

”Thanks for setting for me, Akaashi.” He draped a long arm over Keiji’s shoulder, patting him on the back. Keiji flinched away, bowing his head apologetically, “No problem. It’s good practice, anyways.”

Konoha’s eyebrows furrowed for a moment before returning to their original state, “You’re a good setter, just get that stick out of your ass as soon as possible, please.”

Keiji scoffed and began walking down the fork in the road, closing his eyes and enjoying the cool air of the evening. His hair was matted to his forehead with sweat, and it was somewhat itchy, so he’d have to take a shower once he got home, but he didn’t mind. 

The stars were beautiful, a splattered picture of white and gold among the dark blues and blacks of the sky. The clouds just barely covered the moon, but Keiji saw the bright silhouette shining through the air and illuminating his neighborhood’s sidewalk.

With a large sigh, Keiji opened the door to his father’s apartment. It was 9:42 PM, slightly more late than usual. Keiji squinted as the bright light of the living room lamp melted through the door and cascaded over his clothes. Once his eyes adjusted, he noticed his father, standing at the counter with his eyes glued to his son.

”Hey, Keiji. You’re home late.” His voice was quiet, yet menacing, and Keiji could feel the venom seeping through his words, “I’m sorry. I got caught up in practice, is all.”

”Oh did you now? How are your grades?” Fine. Keiji was a good student, complaining about the workload didn’t mean he wouldn’t complete the actual work.

”They’re fine. Why do you ask?” He questioned hesitantly. His father’s tone was suspiciously aggressive, save for the blank look on his face and slight smile on his lips.

”You have a C. Do you know what that means?” 

“I have to bring my grade up...?” He cocked his head.

”You’ve had a C for a week now, Keiji.”

”Oh. I’ll bring it up, don’t worry.” He shuffled off his shoes and slid his bag off his shoulder, gliding to his room. Right as Keiji was nearing his door, a large hand made contact with his cheek. His cheek went numb, and then the pain rushed to his face like a tidal wave. He clutched his cheek with his right hand, looking up at his father in fear.

”Get those damn grades up, Keiji.”

His father nodded down at him and sauntered back into the living room. The entire right side of Keiji’s face burned, and his eyes swelled with tears. He bit his lip, blinking upwards a few times, forcing the tears not to fall. He pulled out a grey t-shirt and a pair of plaid pajama pants before tip-toeing into the bathroom.

He turned the lock and looked at himself in the mirror. His eyes, once a beautiful blue, were now red and burning, crying as if blue eyes were created for suffering. His cheeks, still chubby from his youth, were splotchy and red, glistening with tears. His lips quivered and his hands clenched into fists at his side.

Sucking in a breath, Keiji twisted the shower handle, the spray of the water loud against the bathtub. He pulled his shirt off in one fell swoop, placing it neatly on the counter. He fumbled with the button of his jeans, hands too shaky to get a grip on the metal.

Keiji finally pulled his jeans off, folding them and placing them atop his t-shirt. He winced as the cold water hit his back and leaned forward to twist the handle. The water grew warmer, dripping down his nose and falling onto his eyelashes. He massaged some cherry-scented shampoo into his hair, his head lolling backwards involuntarily. The smell of the soap engulfed him, making him forget about the lasting stinging on his cheek. About everything that had gone wrong.

“Akaashi Keiji!” Keiji shifted in his seat and glanced toward the auditorium stage. His eyes widened and he pulled himself up out of his chair, mumbling small apologies to the students he passed. His shoes clicked obnoxiously as he clambered up the stairs, his principal waiting at the top.

Once he made it, he bowed low and accepted the plaque that his principal held in his hand. He ran his index finger along the ridges of the wood before shaking his hand and managing a short ‘thank you.’ 

_Keiji Akaashi. Third-year junior high valedictorian. Congratulations._

_Signed - Principal Sato_

Keiji smiled to himself and admired the twists and curves of the handwriting etched into the plaque. He noticed Konoha waving at him somewhere off to the side, and he threw up a small peace sign, signifying his appreciation.

Within the next half hour, both Konoha and Numajiri had been called. Neither of them received any sort of award, and that made something uncomfortable sit in the pit of Keiji’s stomach. What if they thought he was weird, getting valedictorian? What if they didn’t want him to practice with them anymore?

Keiji’s breathing ceased for a moment before he picked himself up and rushed to the bathroom, stuffing the plaque into his bag. He pushed open the door, kicking it shut behind him and locking himself in. He pressed the heels of his hands against his temples and closed his eyes. 

_In, and out. In, and out._

His chest heaved with every breath, sending a sharp pain to the lower right side of his abdomen. It felt as though his trachea had been glued shut and air was not circulating through his lungs anymore. Tears, burning hot, threatened to spill out the corners of his eyes at any moment.

The sound of the bathroom door squeaking against the tile sent shivers down Keiji’s spine as he clamped a hand over his mouth to quiet his sobs.

”Akaashi? You in there?” Konoha asked hesitantly, as if he was talking to a completely different person. Keiji only managed a small “Mhm!” in response before unlocking the door and stepping out of the stall to face Konoha.

“What’s wrong? Your nose is kinda runny. Didn’t take you to be a snotty fella.” He laughed wryly before reaching out to Keiji’s shoulder. He dropped his arm in defeat when Keiji slipped past him and turned on the sink.

“It’s nothing. I just overthought.” Keiji mumbled while dabbing his face dry with paper towels.

“About?”

”You know, basic stuff.”

“Like? Akaashi you can’t just expect me to understand your little cryptic comments.” Konoha pinched the bridge of his nose before meeting Keiji’s eyes once more.

“Basically I got caught up in what you and Numajiri thought of me, okay? That’s all. I’m gonna go back out now.” Keiji nearly brushed past him, but Konoha leaned in front of the door so he was incapable of leaving the bathroom.

”What did you think we thought?” 

“I don’t know! Okay? It- thoughts like that go through my head all the time. It’s not a big deal.” 

“It is a big deal when you have snot dripping down to your chin because of it.” 

“Shut up, I’m fine, okay? Now lets please get back in time for the closing ceremony.” Keiji wiped his chin with the back of his sleeve.

Konoha perked up and the corner of his mouth turned upwards in a lopsided smile, “Yeah, I’m hungry.”

The two silently made their way out of the bathroom, staggering themselves so if they were to get caught, they’d get caught alone. Keiji strolled back to his seat within the rows and bowed his head in apology to the students sitting next to him. A few moments later, Konoha scrambled through the doors and plopped himself back into his own seat.

The rest of the ceremony passed by in an uncomfortable blur, slurred speeches about ‘how proud the staff is’ of their mediocre students were thrown about and reworded between each teacher. Keiji even found himself snorting at a half-assed dirty joke his english teacher somehow slipped into his speech, which lightened the mood ever so slightly.

After what felt like hours - thirty minutes - the principal dismissed the students in the auditorium and announced that the closing ceremony would begin. The warm, savory scent of onigiri filled Keiji’s nostrils and dragged him toward the source. A large table, covered in a tablecloth patterned with his school colors, harboring the most onigiri Keiji had ever seen in his life.

He scrambled forward, picking up a riceball in both hands before weaving through the crowd to find Konoha. Keiji found Konoha standing next to Numajiri, taking small bites out of what looked like fried chicken, “Hey! Akaashi!” He waved, chicken still in hand.

“Hey.” Keiji halted in front of the two boys, chewing silently.

”Man, I wish we had music, it’s kinda quiet in here.” Almost as if on que, a parent on the other side of the auditorium blasted a loud english song from their speaker. Numajiri’s eyes widened as if he’d just told the future.

“This is _awesome_.” Konoha nearly squealed before closing his eyes and swaying along with the unintelligible song.

Numajiri giggled before waving to a girl that looked too similar to him to _not_ be his sister, and mumbling a goodbye to Keiji and Konoha. Keiji shoved the last bit of onigiri into his mouth before closing his eyes and letting the music wash over him as well. It vibrated deep in his chest, making his whole body feel as though he was floating, without a care in the world.

Konoha tugged on the sleeve of Keiji’s blazer, and he snapped his eyes open, “...What?”

”Do you feel it too?”

”Feel...what?” Keiji already knew what he was talking about, but words couldn’t possibly describe the feeling of ecstasy ricocheting around his skeleton right now.

”Like you can do anything.” He smiled when Keiji nodded, and closed his eyes once more.

“Akaashi?” Konoha asked when the two left the auditorium.

”Yeah?”

“Do you want to go practice for a bit?”

”Yeah. Let’s go.” Keiji turned left and strolled toward the gym, which was empty.

Well it was _supposed_ to be empty. Save for the weird disgruntled moans coming from inside. Konoha squawked indignantly and sprinted toward the gym doors, “Hey! Hello?”

Keiji’s phone buzzed, and he checked the time. 10:23 PM, _oh god._

Dad:

[Where are you? Get your ass back here right now.]  
  


K:

[Lost track of time. It’s my fault, I’ll be home in 15.]  
  


Dad:

[You better.]  
  


His father’s message sent a jolt of guilt deep down in the pit of his stomach, “Hey Konoha?”

His friend was already deep in conversation with whoever sat inside the gym, and Keiji sucked in a breath between clenched teeth before running in the opposite direction. Not the most graceful way to say goodbye to your friend before summer break, but it’d work.

Keiji sprinted down the sidewalks and streets leading the way to his father’s apartment. The wind nipped at his nose and cheeks, threatening to whip his hair up off his forehead. His bag tugged against his shoulder as he ran, the buckles pinching uncomfortably against his hip.

Finally, Keiji stumbled up the stairs to the apartment door. He unlocked it, coming face to face with his father, “Hey, Ji.” 

“Hi, dad.” He tried to keep control of the waver in his voice. _Tried._

”You’re late.” His expression was unreadable, but Keiji noticed the faint outline of something in the pocket of his jeans.

”I’m sorry I lost track of time, today was graduation and I didn’t check my phone.” 

“You little shit. You were probably whorin’ around with some girls, weren’t you?” His pupils were dilated, his face flushed. He was drunk.

”I wasn’t. I swear.” 

“Stop lying to me! I know what you did, you little- you little slut of a son.” Keiji clenched his jaw and bowed his head.

”I-I wasn’t, dad. I’m fourteen. I don’t, I don’t want to do stuff like that yet.” He stepped forward, his fathers face so close to him he could smell his breath, which reeked of beer.

Keiji’s father scoffed before slipping his hand into the pocket of his jeans and pulling out a metal switchblade. Keiji audibly gulped.

”You see this? Huh, Ji?” 

“Yes.” He felt his throat closing up once more, his vision foggy with tears that he willed not to fall.

”C’mere.” Keiji didn’t have time to object before the metal clicked and the tip of the blade connected with the soft skin of his stomach. He yelped as his father dragged the blade along his stomach, “If you were home early I wouldn’t have to do this. You know that, don’t you?” 

Keiji’s cries were muffled by his father’s hand pressing flat against his mouth and nose. With one push, the blade pressed itself into Keiji’s stomach, a deep, guttural groan spilling out of his throat. A warm, wet sensation spilled onto the skin when his father pulled the blade out and he clutched his abdomen in pain.

”Go clean yourself up, Ji.” 

So he complied, sliding up against the wall and jogging to the bathroom. He yanked off his shirt and turned on the shower, letting the splatter of water against the tile of the bathtub fill his ears. He pressed a wad of toilet paper to the cut, hissing as it made contact with the tissue inside. 

“Fuck.” He whispered, his bottom lip clenched so tightly between his teeth it felt as though it had been cut too.

Keiji threw the dark red glob of toilet paper into the trashcan and stepped into the shower, jaw dropping in pain when the water dripped over the wound. He delicately rinsed around it, gasping when soap accidentally slipped too close. He washed his hair with the same cherry-scented shampoo he’d always used, his hands stained pink with blood.

He turned the water off, changing into the same pajamas he’d worn the night before. He trudged into his room, furrowing his eyebrows when the blankets rubbed against his stomach the wrong way. His mind swirled and distorted, images tainted with blood and cries of pain muddied his imagination. 

His eyes drooped low, held open with the force of fear. Keiji brushed a stray piece of hair away from his face before succumbing to sleep. 


	2. “Friend’s House”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter! Woohoo!

The sun poked through the blinds lining the living room window of Keiji’s father’s apartment. The strong scent of black coffee and rice wafted through the apartment’s rooms, settling in the kitchen. Keiji stirred silently, pausing occasionally to let his right arm rest before starting the cycle once more.

Keiji’s phone buzzed, and the light tinkling of a piano’s keys rang from its speakers. He temporarily dropped his spoon, padding over to the dining room table to answer the call.

He smiled once he registered the photo on the screen and pressed down on the green ‘Accept Call’ button, “Hello?”

”Dude! It’s been a week already, and you haven’t come back to the gym.” Konoha’s voice was low and scratchy from sleep, yet Keiji still recognized the mirth that lingered long after he’d spoken.

”Yeah. Sorry, my dad’s been keeping me home.” He pressed his phone between his shoulder and cheek as he went back to stirring raw egg into the rice in the pot.

”You should come back! I made a new friend, you’d _hate_ him. He’s so loud.” 

“As promising as that sounds, I’m busy right now, I’ll come by soon I promise.”

”Pinky promise?”

”That stuff is for kids.” Keiji scoffed and hung up.

He folded the last egg yolk into the rice and scooped some out of the pot and into a bowl. He pulled out two pairs of chopsticks and set one on the dining room table, breaking apart the other and poking at his rice.

”Keji!” He jumped at the sound of his father’s voice booming from his room, “Room. Now!”

”Coming!” He set his bowl on the kotatsu and lightly jogged down the hall, folding his hands together behind him. In his room, Keiji’s father sat on the bed, a porn magazine in hand.

”What’s this?” His father waved the magazine at him, vulgar pictures printed on the front. Keiji could not recall any time in the last fourteen years of his life he’d bought such thing, and cocked his head in confusion.

”I asked you a question!” His father’s fist clenched at his side and Keiji winced, the cut on his stomach still fresh from a few nights before, “I have no idea what that is.”

”My ass you don’t! I found this under your bed, care to explain?” Keiji _never_ placed things under his bed, especially not something as disgusting as a porn magazine.

“No clue.” His father stood up, his eyes half-lidded in anger and disgust. He walked toward Keiji, magazine in hand, and rose it up to meet his face.

”If you don’t tell me where you got this, I’m gonna beat your ass.” He slid the paper along Keiji’s cheek, it was rough and uncomfortable against his skin, and he feared it would leave marks.

”I don’t- I don’t know what that is.” Keiji whimpered, and he looked up at his father through his eyelashes, bottom lip quivering in fear. His father pulled his arm back and hit the magazine hard against the side of Keiji’s head. He stumbled over himself for a moment before something made contact with his head yet again. This time it wasn’t a magazine, it was a large fist landing hard on Keiji’s temple.

His head lolled backward before he regained his balance and grabbed onto the doorframe. His father had already pushed his way out of the hall and seated himself comfortably on the couch as if the events from before had never happened at all. Keiji almost took it upon himself to believe it had never happened as well and convince himself it was just the morning light playing tricks on him, but the painful throbbing in his face snapped him back to reality.

He winced and placed a cold hand on his cheek, a familiar wet sensation dripping down and painting itself against Keiji’s fingers. He winced and ran into the bathroom, turning on the sink and cupping his hands underneath the water. He splashed his face a few times and pinned his hair back with a clip to reach the source of the blood flow. He dabbed at it with a towel, his nose scrunching up in pain.

When the blood stopped, Keiji peered out of the bathroom and noticed his father glaring at him from the couch. He stood up and strolled toward Keiji, allowing a smile to spread across his face, “Oh come here.”

He pulled Keiji forward by his forearm and pressed him against his chest in a tight hug. Keiji took a deep breath in through his nose and allowed himself to relax in his father’s arms. His sweater smelled like the candles his mother used to light during cold winter evenings, and his hands were warm against Keiji’s back. 

“I only did that to see if you’d lie to me. You’re a good boy, Keiji.” _Lie? Lie about what?_ Keiji’s confusion dulled down when his father released him and nudged him toward his room. It was 10:17 AM and Keiji already felt like falling back asleep. Letting his mind fall deep into the abyss that was his dreams. 

His pillow was cold and soft as he slid his arms underneath it, rolling comfortably onto his stomach. Keiji yawned and nuzzled his head farther into the cushion of his pillow, his arms and legs feeling weightless. 

Keiji’s father sat down on a bench, watching his son as he answered a phone call. Keiji had asked to come to the park, it was a nice day and he wanted to get some fresh air.

“Yeah? I’ll be there in a sec. Keiji!” His father’s voice called from the other side of the field. 

“What?” Keiji stood up from where he was seated in the grass, the newest copy of Shonen! Jump magazine in his hands.

”I’m goin’ to a friends house, I’ll see you in a few days. Love you, kid!” _Days?_ Before Keiji could object, his father was already sprinting down the sidewalk, a dopey smile plastered on his face.

Keiji huffed and sat down again, jutting his bottom lip out in a pout when he noticed the grass stain on the cover of his magazine. He stretched his legs out, a low hum emitting from the back of his throat. He laid down, pressing his forearms over his eyes to block out the sun.

”Akaashi? You’re alive!” Keiji bit back the annoyed groan that bubbled up in his throat and blinked one eye open. Konoha stood, wide hazel eyes staring directly into Keiji’s.

”What are you doing here?” Keiji’s voice was muffled underneath his arm.

”Its summer, isn’t it? I wanted to have some fun.”

”Your idea of fun is walking around in a field?” Keiji cocked an eyebrow.

”It certainly is _yours_.” A shit-eating grin spread across Konoha’s face before he sat down next to Keiji on the grass, “What are _you_ doing here?”

”Resting.”

”You ‘rest’ too much, Akaashi. Lets go do something!” Konoha raised himself up on his elbows.

”No.” 

“Why not? You can meet my new friend! He’s uh- he’s older than us.” 

“By how much? I’m not going to meet him if he’s forty, Konoha.” 

Konoha snorted and pressed the heel of his palm to his forehead, “No! He’s not forty, he’s only sixteen.”

Keiji squinted at Konoha before bending his knees and sitting upright, “Let’s meet him, then.”

”Okay, okay! He goes to- what was it? The highschool that you were talking about last week!”

”Fukurodani Academy?”

Konoha’s eyes widened, “Yes! That one!”

Keiji pressed his lips into a thin line. He’d read that Fukurodani Academy harbored one of Japan’s top three aces. He couldn’t quite recall the name, but he definitely remembered watching one of their games on television. 

“Cool.”

”Cool? Come on, I’ll show you the guy!” 

Keiji rolled his eyes and stood up, picking up his magazine and tucking it underneath his armpit, “Who exactly is this guy?”

”Bokuto Koutarou!” Something in Keiji’s brain clicked. That was the name of Fukurodani’s Ace, “ _Him_?”

Konoha raised his hands defensively, “Yeah yeah one of the big three, I know. He asked me not to tell anyone as to not ‘boost his ego.’ Whatever that means.”

”Wow. So do you usually just become best friends with Japan’s Aces or-“

”Shut up! To be honest I didn’t recognize him until he told me.”

”Way to be respectful.” Konoha snorted and turned to raise a hand, Keiji’s heart sank. He ducked down low and raised his arms over his head, the magazine falling to the ground.

“Why did you do that?” Konoha’s arm fell to his side, worry evident on his face. Keiji bent down to pick up his magazine, dusting it off with the hem of his shirt, “Do what?”

”Act like I was going to beat you up?”

”Oh. It’s nothing. Let’s go meet Bokuto.” Keiji jogged ahead of Konoha and steadied his breathing, his cover of Shonen! Jump held tightly between his hands.

”Oh. Okay!” Konoha began sprinting after Keiji, his shoes kicking up the dry dirt in the grass.

They ran down the empty pavement until they reached what looked like an old abandoned gym. Keiji figured it was just his eyes messing with him when he thought he saw the ghosts of children playing outside. 

Konoha stopped running once they reached the doors, and allowed both of them to catch their breath.

”He practices here.” Konoha heaved, he’d sprinted for so long Keiji feared he was going to have an asthma attack.

”Okay, do we walk in?” Keiji stood on the balls of his feet to peak through the gym window. He could see Bokuto’s spiked hair, which was slightly glistening with either 1) Sweat, or 2) Hair Gel, which were both equally disgusting.

”Yeah he’s pretty welcoming. You just- head in I’ll be there in a sec.”

”Do I have to? He’s gonna think I’m weird.” Keiji whined, picking at the skin of his right thumb.

”Shut up and walk in, you’re fine.”

So Keiji did, he stepped in through the doors and nearly pissed himself when a volleyball came flying toward his face. He ducked, with a minor yelp at the sharp pain that came from his stomach, and looked up in the direction the ball had come from.

”Oh my god! I am _so_ sorry.” Bokuto bounded over to him, hand clamped against his mouth, “I really didn’t mean to do that!”

Keiji’s head threatened to pound with annoyance at how loud Bokuto was already, but he blinked his eyes and instead, stared daggers into the other boy’s head.

”It’s fine.”

”No really it’s no- hey! Who are you? You don’t look like Konoha, unless he dyed his hair, but your eyes are different, at least I think so..” Bokuto pressed a finger to his bottom lip in deep thought, and Keiji nearly vomited at how idiotic he was.

”Akaashi Keiji. Pleasure to meet you.”

”Oh! I’m Bokuto Koutarou! Does the name ring any bells?” He asked, his eyebrows raising nearly to his hairline.

”One of Japan’s top three Aces, right?”

”Yup! I’m only surpassed by Ushiwaka and that stupid first-year prodigy, Sakusa with the bendy wrists.” Keiji stuffed the two names in a mental note before noticing Konoha, standing proudly to his right.

”Hey guys!” Konoha put both hands on his hips, a lopsided smile creeping onto his face.

”Hey, Ko!” Bokuto waved at him dramatically.

”Hey.” Keiji watched awkwardly as Bokuto waved at him dramatically.

”You two sure are getting along. How about we do a bonding exercise?” Konoha quirked an eyebrow and winked at Keiji, who scrunched his nose upwards in disgust.

”What does it entail, my little pupil?” Bokuto leaned down - _is he 5’11?_ \- and patted Konoha’s head.

”You can spike Akaashi’s sets!” 

“Is he a setter?” 

“One of my personal favorites, actually!” As Konoha exclaimed that, Bokuto slowly turned his head, eyes widening to the size of saucers, “Do you wanna?”

Keiji blinked once, twice, before nodding silently and handing Konoha the volleyball that nearly ended his life. Konoha leaned in toward his ear and whispered, “I told you you’d hate him.”

”He’s quite loud.” Keiji whispered back. He didn’t hate Bokuto, though. 

“Ko! Come toss that ball up for ‘Kashi and I!” Bokuto called from the other side of the court.

“My name’s Akaashi.”

”Y’know I might just call you ‘Apathy’ instead. You could stand to be a little more fired up.”

“Ah, sure.” Keiji didn’t make an effort whatsoever.

Konoha tossed the ball to Keiji, who set it up, probably too high even for Bokuto’s reach. He jumped, winding up his right arm and slamming the ball full-force down onto the ground. Keiji’s jaw went slack in awe, Bokuto was weirdly _perfect._

“Oh my god! ‘Kashi! That was amazing! Can you do that again?” Keiji did, thirty times without fail. Every single time Bokuto would exclaim something along the lines of “Wow, ‘Kashi! That was great!” or “That was perfect!”

Keiji’s mouth curled up in an uncharacteristic grin, “Thank you for hitting my sets, Bokuto.”

“Thank _you_ , ‘Kashi!” Bokuto laughed heartily and pumped his fist up in the air, Keiji isn’t lying when he says it made his stomach drop, ever so slightly.

Konoha nearly dragged Keiji out of the gym by the collar, claiming he ‘had to be home by sundown.’

”So? What do you think?” Konoha asked when they were well out of earshot.

”He’s nice. He hits my sets extremely well.” 

“I know right? He’s super tall so I figured he’d be able to hit them. Don’t use him as an excuse for your ridiculous sets, though. You still need to learn to adapt to your spiker.”

”Yes, Konoha I’ve heard it all before.”

”Good! I’m gonna go home, you okay to walk home by yourself?”

Keiji nodded silently and veered right, sauntering away from Konoha. It was late in the afternoon, nearing sunset, but the sun had yet to dip below the horizon. Keiji noticed a few bright stars peeking out from behind the clouds when he looked up, and smiled to himself. Bokuto was somewhat a star.

Keiji unlocked the door to his fathers apartment, allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness for a moment before stepping in. The deep orange hue of the sun painted itself along the kitchen, making the entire apartment seem warm and cozy.

Keiji yawned, his eyes drooping ever so slightly. He shrugged off his jacket and patted his pockets for - oh no where is it - his copy of the newest Shonen! Jump magazine. He slouched in defeat when he realized he must’ve left it inside the gym. _No hope for it now,_ he thought, as he padded into his room.

There was absolutely zero sign of his father, and the comfort in that alone is what drifted him off into a deep sleep.

Keiji woke up to not one, not two, not _three_ , but seven missed messages from Bokuto himself. 

B:

[Hey! It’s Bokuto from the gym :3]  
[I liked your sets!! Maybe we could practice again?]  
[You know only if u come to Fukurodani (^^)]  
[Or just whenever. Doesn’t matter]  
[Konoha told me about you!]  
[That was a lie.]  
[AH sorry for the spam, Ko gave me your number and I got a little excited :D]  
  


K:

[Don’t worry. It’s fine.]  
  


Keiji checked the time and breathed out heavily through his nose, a noise that could be registered as a laugh in any other circumstance. 12:34 in the afternoon, he’d slept well over what he needed yet he still felt drawn to his pillow. He didn’t relish in the moment nearly long enough until his phone pinged again.

B:

[Really? Awesome!]  
  


_How does one manage to channel excitement through text?_

Keiji set his phone down on the nightstand and pulled himself out of bed. He lifted up the corner of his shirt to inspect the cut his father had given him a few weeks ago. It was scabbed over, it’d pose for a pretty questionable scar. Keiji didn’t dwell on how visible it would be in the locker rooms and instead trod into the living room.

The apartment was empty, still no signs of his father. Keiji hummed the tune of the english song that played at his middle school graduation while he sautéed broccoli and bean sprouts. The words were still foreign to him, but the melody was smooth and, if it were a material, it would be silk.

Keiji plopped down on the living room floor, twisting the knobs of the radio on the kotatsu so it played the one specific station he liked. It was all classical music, stuff he wished he’d learned how to play when he was younger so he could be some sort of prodigy.

He bit down on a piece of broccoli and stretched his legs out on the floor, nearly flinging his bowl in the air when the radio turned to static, _loud_ static. He switched off the radio and composed himself again, this time getting up to grab his phone out of his room.

Four more missed messages. Keiji didn’t make an effort to stop the annoyed groan that came out of his mouth. 

B:

[Could we play today?]  
[Well not PLAY but like you set for me again?]  
[You don’t have to I don’t mind if u don’t wanna]  
[I’d appreciate it tho!! (>.<)]  
  


K:

[I’m sorry. I can’t today, maybe some other time?]  
  


B:

[I’m fine with tomorrow!!]  
  


Keiji scoffed, Bokuto was kind of pushy. Not in a bad way, no, but pushy nonetheless. He wondered how much worse he’d be when dealing with him day-to-day, on a team, for two years. It couldn’t be that bad, his teammates probably know him so well they can deal with his boisterous personality.

K:

[What time?]  
  


B:

[Doesn’t matter! We could get lunch/dinner afterwards too :3]  
  


K:

[That won’t be necessary, but thank you.]  
  


Bokuto didn’t answer after that, Keiji assumed he just didn’t care for it anymore. He realized he’d somehow finished the vegetables in his bowl, and stood up to put it in the sink. He noticed the pileup of dishes in the sink already, and decided to load the dishwasher. He lined up the plates perfectly, biting back a gag when some water dripped onto his thumb.

Once he’d successfully filled the dishwasher, he cleaned his room, his bathroom, and the rest of the apartment. God knows what his father would do to him if he came back to the house and saw dust piled up on the cabinets.

He wiped until his shoulders ached and his nostrils almost burned from the amount of antibacterial spray he’d used to clean the counters. He tossed the cloth he’d used to clean in the laundry bin and decided to put off loading the washer until tomorrow. Wait, not tomorrow, the day after tomorrow.

So what, Keiji decided to set to Bokuto again. It would only be for a few hours, he made that clear before Bokuto bounced away and began squawking random words of praise to both Keiji and himself.

”So, ‘Kashi-“

”It’s Akaashi.”

”Akaashi. When did you start playing volleyball?” He fixed the placement of his kneepads and stared at Akaashi with round, honey-brown eyes.

”When I was about seven. What about you?”

”Ah! I started at six. I’m officially the best.”

Keiji didn’t bother acknowledge that Bokuto was actually surpassed by two other people in the nation, he seemed too content with himself. 

Hours slipped past like minutes, and Keiji found himself cheering when Bokuto nailed a particularly close line-shot. It was hard to be both the referee who determined whether or not Bokuto’s spikes were actually in, _and_ his setter who knew the perfect angles and trajectory for his spikes better than himself.

Bokuto glanced down at his phone and mumbled something about Keiji having to leave.

”What was that?”

”Nothin’, you just have to leave now. It’s a little late.”

”Oh, thanks for telling me. Goodbye, Bokuto. It was a pleasure setting for you today.”

”It was a pleasure hitting your sets!” Bokuto waved and watched as Keiji slipped out of the gym. He was right, it was 4:32 PM and the sun hung low in the sky. Keiji’s phone buzzed in his pocket and he was met with the unflattering, zoomed-in picture of Konoha’s face spread along his phone screen, “Hello?”

”Hi yeah why didn’t you tell me you basically went on a date with the third-best spiker in the nation.”

”Okay first of all, no, and second of all I honestly didn’t know I’d set for him again until yesterday.”

”Okay fair point. You still cheated on me though.”

”How is that even- what?!” Keiji stopped in his tracks and rolled his eyes when maniacal laughter erupted from the phone, ”Ha ha very funny. You scared me.” 

“I’m” Konoha paused to catch his breath, “I’m sorry! You’re too easy to get!”

”I know I know. I’m on my way back to my dad’s apartment right now.”

”’Kay! Tell me when you get home so I know you didn’t, like, die or whatever.”

”You’re so caring, Konoha.”

”I know! Bye!” The receiver beeped and Keiji tucked his phone back into his pocket.

The rest of the walk was uneventful, although Keiji did see a stray tortoiseshell cat roaming around. He didn’t bother call out to it, though, it probably had an owner anyways.

Oddly enough, when Keiji unlocked the door and it creaked open, he was met with the same light cascading over his clothes that had foretold his little knife incident. He _definitely_ did not leave it on when he left, so why was it on now?

”Where were you, Ji?” The painfully familiar, raspy voice of his father cut through the silence like an axe through wood.

”I was playing volleyball with a friend.” He shrugged his bag off his shoulder and did not look at his father as he slid down the hallway and stepped into his room.

”Oh really?” The sound that followed vibrated around Keiji’s brain. The loud snapping of a leather belt. He jumped and sucked in a deep breath, closing his eyes before walking back into the living room where his father stood.

”Yes. Bokuto Koutarou. One of-“

”Japan’s top three aces. I know him, he’s older than you isn’t he? Is he grooming you? Did he fucking touch you?”

”Wh- no? Bokuto would never do that, that’s not him.”

”I’m trying to protect you, Keiji.”

”I’m fine, dad.”

His father gripped the belt tighter and stomped toward Keiji. Chills ran down the back of his neck, settling uncomfortably in his chest where he could feel his heart beating rapidly.

”You’re gonna keep quiet, you hear me? We have neighbors, and you’re being a fucking brat.”

”I didn’t even do anyth-“

”Shut the fuck up before I bring the knife back out. Your mother isn’t here anymore, what’re you gonna do? Huh? Call out to mommy? Ask her for help?”

Keiji’s eye twitched, and his stomach churned. He could not move, unsure if it was out of fear or anger. All he processed was the sharp pain on his back and the loud cracking of leather against bare skin. He wanted to scream. He wanted to _cry_. Life in Tokyo was supposed to be better, he was supposed to be happy. So why? Why now, of all times, was he subjected to this. 

The tears spilled freely down his cheeks as he felt his father’s hand brush through the roots of his hair gently. It tightened and yanked his head back as the pain shifted from his back to his stomach, hitting hard against his stab wound.

He fell to the floor, his head throbbing and knees buckling under him. His torso felt seared, as though he’d just been dipped in boiling hot water. He crawled to his room, letting his soft whimpers and damp pillow send him to sleep.

The familiar buzz of his phone snapped him out of his trance, and he slipped it out with a large surge of energy.

B:

[Thanks for setting for me today!! I may or may not have accidentally on purpose slipped to the principal that you were crazy smart and basically a genius setter. See you in August :)]  
  


Keiji gasped and held his phone tightly to his chest, laughing exasperatedly as the tears pouring out of his eyes poured for a different reason. His cheeks rose in a half-hearted smile before he typed back a response.

K:

[Oh my god. Thank you so much, Bokuto. Really, :)]  
  


B:

[Ah! It was nothing, really.]  
  


Keiji giggled to himself and rolled over to his side, wincing as the fabric of his shirt tugged at the raw skin on his back. His expression softened when he heard the ‘click’ of his father’s bedroom door, and he let his eyes fall and the wonders of his subconscious take over his mind.

He blinked awake. He was sat, in shorts and a dark blue t-shirt, in the Fukurodani academy gym. Somewhere off to the side, his teammates chattered, but the only person he could recognize was Bokuto.

He felt a faint tug at his heart, as if something was pulling him towards the boy. He stood up and walked over, the sound of his shoes echoing around the walls of the gym. He sat down next to Bokuto, looking up at him expectedly.

His brown eyes only looked down at Keiji in disgust, and when he spoke, his voice came out low and raspy exactly like his father’s.

”You’re a _brat_.”

”Nobody _likes_ you, Ji.”

”You were probably _whoring_ around with some girls, weren’t you?”

”Don’t be such a fucking _slut_ for everyone.”

The words were like whips against Keiji’s back and he felt as though the gym was closing in on him. His ears thrummed at a disgustingly melodic speed and his eyes shot open. He was met with a cold sweat and the dark ceiling of his room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you’re still here, hey!! Glad to have you! We’re going to pretend that I WASNT oblivious to the fact Konoha is actually a year ahead of Akaashi and just let it slide for the sake of the fic. Anyways, Bo was introduced! How we feelin?


	3. Fukurodani Academy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally getting the ball rolling! Woohoo!

Keiji didn’t realize how time felt like it was flying by until he shot himself awake at 6:00 AM. Fukurodani Academy entrance exams. Sure, Bokuto’s recommendation worked wonders for him, its a surprise he even got the opportunity to exam in the first place.

Konoha had decided to come too, temporarily easing Keiji’s nerves. Not _just_ for moral support, though, he’d actually got a pretty decent recommendation from Bokuto as well. So here they were, awkwardly waiting in line to take the exam in groups of thirty.

”So, do you think you’ll get in?” Konoha’s eyes darted around the entrance of the school, never once meeting Keiji’s.

”I hope so. Bokuto gave us both recommendations, didn’t he?”

”Yeah. I dunno, though, I feel like I’m too dumb to pass the entrance exam.”

”Well. There’s only one way to find out.” Keiji breathed as he looked at Fukurodani’s emblem. It was a large barn owl, with light brown eyes that seemed to stare directly into Keiji’s soul. He fought back a smile, those eyes reminded him of someone.

”Akaashi, Keiji!” The guidance counselor called, and Keiji ran up the steps toward the line of students already waiting to step into a classroom. He breathed, _this is fine, in and out, in and out._

Keiji heard the feint calling of a few more student’s names before he was ushered into the classroom. It was small, but extremely neat and cleanly nonetheless. The examinees all chose a desk and sat down.

Keiji’s desk was much closer than the front than he’d expected, but it was fine. The teacher introduced himself as Mr. Fujikawa. He passed out large packets to the students in the front of each row and ordered them to take one and pass it to the student behind them.

Keiji slipped a packet out of the stack and turned to the side to politely lay the stack on the other examinee’s desk. He faced forward once more and picked up the pencil that had previously laid on the desk.

”You will begin your entrance exams in one minute.”

Keiji stared down at the booklet, in bright letters, ‘Fukurodani’ was printed near the top. It was thick, and Keiji feared he may not even be able to _finish_ the entrance exam, let alone pass.

“You may begin, now.”

Keiji flipped open the booklet and wrote the characters of his name in the top right corner. He blinked and pursed his lips, flipping the next page and reading the first question.

His eyes scanned across the Kanji, brows furrowing in confusion.

_Write an english sentence inviting a friend to an outing._

All of Keiji’s knowledge of english from previous classes seemed to disappear right then and there. He’d expected at least a column of english words to rearrange and form into a sentence, not a vague outline and a blank box.

He rubbed his eyes and slid the tip of his pencil along the paper, writing in an answer he knew wasn’t correct whatsoever.

Keiji raised his hand once he’d finished filling out the last page in the booklet. His hand ached, he’d gripped his pencil so tight when he faced certain challenging questions he assured himself he’d have to cut off his hand.

“Name?”

”Akaashi Keiji.”

”Thank you. Club sign-ups will be next week.”

Keiji nodded and stepped out of the classroom. The hallway was mostly empty, save for a few older staff and teacher’s assistants. He headed down the hallway toward the front doors of the school, breathing in the soft scent of— laundry detergent?

He turned his head toward the source of the smell and his expression softened once he realize who had come jogging down the hallway, clean jerseys in hand.

”’Kashi! Good to see you again, did you take your entrance exam?”

”Uh, yes. I don’t think I did very well on the english portion.”

”Eh! I flunked my math portion twice, and I’m still here. Don’t worry, I’m sure you made it.”

Bokuto skidded to a halt directly in front of Keiji and peered down at him. Keiji looked up and quickly realized just how _built_ Bokuto really was. Volleyball must have treated him well.

“Thank you, Bokuto.”

”It’s no problem! On a different note, do you mind helping me with these jerseys? I forgot how many people are actually on our team so I laundered a little too many.”

”Oh, sure. I don’t mind at all.” Keiji held his arms out and Bokuto placed six neatly folded jerseys into his hands. Keiji looked down at the jerseys and back up at Bokuto, who flashed him a welcoming smile before nodding in the direction he was jogging toward.

”C’mon! Follow me.” 

Keiji followed his upperclassmen through the front of the school and out toward the boy’s volleyball team gym. Bokuto pushed open the door with his shoulder and announced his entrance while Keiji padded in after him.

“Hey Bokuto. Got the jerseys?” A tall dude toward the back called out.

”Hey Sarukui! I may have accidentally washed a few more than we needed.”

”Who’s the little dude?” Keiji’s eyes widened as both Sarukui and Bokuto looked back at him, Sarukui with a scrutinizing look on his face.

”Akaashi Keiji, an _amazing_ setter! I think he’s gonna be on the team,” he paused, looking at Keiji with wide eyes, “Right?”

”Oh. Uh, I hope so.”

Sarukui pulled the jerseys out of both Bokuto and Keiji’s hands and looked Keiji up and down, “Care to show me how good you are, kid?”

Keiji scoffed, he was only a year younger than them so he figured the nickname wasn’t necessary. Nonetheless, he obliged.

Bokuto let a squeal rip from the back of his throat and ran toward the crate full of volleyballs. He picked one up and spun it between his hands before passing it to Sarukui.

”Ready, Saru?” Bokuto called.

”Yeah, don’t get it out this time.”

”Oh shut _up_! I barely got it out last week, it was a fluke, I swear!”

”Yeah yeah.” Sarukui rolled his eyes dramatically before sending the ball to Keiji. Keiji knitted his eyebrows together and set the ball backwards, watching as Bokuto ran toward it full speed. He jumped up and slammed the ball down, a perfect cross shot, on the other side of the court.

”Wow!” Sarukui let out a breathy laugh, “You’re good.” 

Keiji felt his cheeks heat up slightly and bowed his head, “Thank you.”

Bokuto giggled and pumped his fist in the air, giving Keiji an uncomfortable reminder of the scars that lay branded across his back. He shut his eyes and smiled softly along with Bokuto, who cheered loudly for himself.

“‘Kashi’s great, right? I told you.” Bokuto elbowed his friend in the ribs, “He’s a real prodigy.”

”Didn’t Yukie tell you the definition of that word?” Sarukui smirked and clutched his side.

”Okay, yeah, but it makes me sound smart so shut it.” Bokuto laughed and bounded over to Keiji, who beamed at him. The word ‘prodigy’ bounced around Keiji’s ears and sent a flush up to his face and neck.

”C’mon Ahkaashi! Let’s go find Ko.” Bokuto ushered him out of the gym and patted Keiji’s shoulder. Keiji flinched and shifted so that there was a decent amount of distance between Bokuto and him.

Bokuto huffed behind him and continued walking back to the main office of Fukurodani. Once they’d reached their destination, Keiji noticed Konoha sitting on the edge of the steps, typing something into his phone.

”Konoha!” He called, jogging to his friend.

”Oh! Akaashi, where were you?”

”Bokuto wanted me to help him put away the clean jerseys.” Keiji sat down next to Konoha who stared up at them both.

”Cool! You already have an in with the upperclassmen, I see.” Konoha wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and Akaashi mocked disgust.

Bokuto stood there, blank-faced and watched as Keiji laughed with his friend. Keiji glanced up at him and motioned for him to sit beside Konoha, to which he obliged.

”So, you two excited to come here?” Bokuto grinned and looked at the two with expectant eyes.

”Yeah.” Konoha and Keiji breathed in unison. 

Keiji noticed the way Bokuto’s lips parted in awe when Konoha and him exclaimed a singular word in sync. He looked at Bokuto appreciatively. _What a child._

Keiji’s phone chimed and he nearly screamed at the sudden sound erupting from his pocket. He pulled the phone out and read the text message that appeared on the home screen. 

D:

[Your exams should be done by now. I ordered takeout.]  
  


Keiji reminded himself of the last time he’d 1) Stayed out late and 2) Stayed out with Bokuto. He weighed the options and picked himself off the steps of Fukurodani Academy, stuttering out an apology and a quiet ‘Goodbye.’

The sun was still high in the sky, contrasting with the bright blue that painted itself overhead. The clouds had dissolved into mere streaks of white, rendering the sky similar to a painting made by a famous artist.

Keiji yawned and made his way home. Thankfully, Fukurodani academy wasn’t too far away from his father’s apartment, and he could walk there with ease. His blazer was hot against his skin, more so with the July sun beating down on it. 

Keiji unlocked the door to his father’s apartment, sucking in a breath of air before walking in.

”Hey Keiji! I ordered Italian, if that’s okay.” His father smiled at him, deep blue eyes staring into his own. 

“That’s fine.” Keiji speed-walked to his room and slid off his jacket, running a hand through his hair which had grown much longer than he liked. He glanced around his room, contemplating whether or not certain objects would hurt if he fell against them. He shook his head and walked back out into the living room.

”Food’s right here, Keiji. I hope you passed your exam. Didn’t that Konoha kid take it too?”

”Yes.” Keiji sighed as he pulled out the boxes placed neatly in the bag. One contained margherita pizza, and the other harbored cannolis. Keiji breathed in the savory scent that wafted up when he opened the boxes, and transferred the food onto a large plate.

”Fukurodani is a good school, isn’t it?”

”Yes.”

”Aren’t I supposed to pay a bit if you get in?”

Keiji vaguely remembered how expensive Fukurodani was. Well, with it being a school in Tokyo and all, “Yeah. It’s around 120,000 Yen a year.”

His father’s eyebrows knitted together for a moment, ”Hm. Okay. I could make that work.”

“R-really?” Keiji’s eyes widened and he let a small smile creep onto his face.

”Yeah. You’re a good kid. I don’t want you hanging around with that Bokuto kid, though.”

”He’s only a year older than me, and I’m signing up for the volleyball club.”

”Volleyball is fine. But it’s your ass if I catch you with him.” 

Keiji huffed and bit into the pizza, fighting back a gag when he noticed the amount of grease that had accumulated on the plate. Bokuto was _not_ a bad person. Keiji believed Bokuto simply did not have a single bad bone in his body.

Keiji continued to believe that. Every single day since his first year at Fukurodani Academy began. Opening his acceptance letter was the second-most anxiety inducing thing he’d ever went through, and his eyes pricked with tears of joy when he read the print.

Konoha had got in, too, and relief washed over Keiji once he’d heard the news. He was extremely happy that day, and he slept well too.

Sleep had become a more common thing, Keiji realized. He was tired more often, his eyelids drooping low only fifteen minutes after volleyball practice started. He’d gotten told off for it a few times, blaming it on the bright light of the sunset that shone through the gym’s windows.

”So, Akaashi, how’s that new attack you and Bokuto were working on?” Konoha asked in between bites of chicken.

Keiji looked up from his rice and pondered, “It’s fine, really. He’s not used to doing feints though.”

Konoha nodded and looked around the lunch room, scanning the benches, probably looking for a certain round-eyed wing spiker. Keiji looked in the direction his eyes were pointing, and sure enough, Bokuto was sitting on a bench alone scribbling something into a packet.

”I heard he’s not that good at math.” Konoha commented.

”Yeah, apparently he failed the math portion of his entrance exam _twice_.” Keiji laughed and looked at how Bokuto’s eyebrows furrowed in concentration. The tip of his tongue barely poked out of the corner of his mouth, and Keiji snorted.

”Hey, who’s our captain again?” Konoha had already gone back to eating, and Keiji wondered if he noticed his incessant staring.

”Uh...no idea. I’m not even sure if he’s on the starting lineup.” Keiji pulled at the skin of his thumb, glancing at Bokuto.

”Hm, well! I think Bokuto should be our captain next year.” 

Keiji looked back at his friend who nodded, as if to say _I know what I’m talking about._ Keiji studied his face before replying, “And why’s that?”

”Because he’s the coolest. And he’s like the only second-year that talks to us.”

Keiji tilted his head to the side, Sarukui talked to him. Konoha quickly followed up his previous statement with, “The only second-year that goes out of their way to talk to us, that is.”

Keiji nodded. Not many of the second years were fond of him, seeing as he was subject to a lot of Bokuto’s praise. He didn’t ask for it, Bokuto’s just an energetic and loving person. Nothing should change just because Akaashi’s a new setter.

“You’re right. I think he’d be a good captain.”

”We haven’t even gone to spring preliminaries yet and you’re saying that? Woah. You must really believe in him don’t you?”

Keiji felt a familiar tingly feeling rush into his cheeks and he bit his tongue, “No, I’m just saying he would be a good captain.”

”Hm. Okay.”

The bell sounded around the lunch room and Keiji threw both his and Konoha’s leftover garbage in the trashcan. He slipped out of the lunchroom and gripped his bag tightly in his arms, making his way to his next - and last - period.

English. One of his least favorite subjects. He couldn’t quite figure out how to arrange sentence structure, and it irked him that it was the only subject he wasn’t excelling at. He noticed the sign hanging above one of the doors down the hall and picked up his speed.

The door was open, and the late bell had yet to ring, so Keiji sat down in the cold metal chair towards the back and stared up at the chalkboard. _What the hell is morphology?_ Keiji knitted his eyebrows together and looked at the board in disbelief.

”Good afternoon class. Today, we will be focusing on both Japanese and English.” Keiji’s shoulders released themselves from the uncomfortable space against his neck and relaxed. The class was going to be easy if everything had its corresponding Japanese counterpart.

It was most definitely not. A few of the words’ counterparts didn’t directly translate to each other, and Keiji bit his tongue in anticipation of the bell. Nearly on que, the clock struck 3:00 PM and Keiji pulled himself, along with his bag, out of his seat.

He took the familiar path to the Fukurodani gym, scanning his surroundings for Bokuto and Konoha. No sign, they’d probably already entered the gym.

He pushed past the heavy doors and set his bag down, pulling out a clean set of gym clothes to change into. He jogged toward the club room and slid open the unlocked doors.

”Hey, ‘Kashi!” Bokuto’s voice could be heard even before Keiji slid the door open all the way. Keiji expected the volume, what he did not expect was his upperclassmen staring down at him, _shirtless._

Keiji blinked, mentally slapping himself for staring, and slipped off his own shirt as well, tearing his eyes away from Bokuto. He could swear he felt a pair of eyes boring into his back, but when he turned around, he saw Bokuto heading out of the club room.

Konoha pranced in shortly after, his face flushed red and a sly smile curling up at the corners of his mouth, “Guess. What.”

Keiji pulled on a pair of athletic shorts and looked at Konoha, “What?”

”I met a _girl“_ The smile on Konoha’s face grew larger as he watched Keiji’s expression change from bored to semi-interested. 

“If she’s a third-year I’m calling your parents.”

Konoha huffed and crossed his arms, “For your information, Akaashi, she’s in our year. Her names Hidaka. She’s gorgeous.”

”I’m surprised she even spoke to you. You know, with all your drooling and stuff.”

”I’m not drooling! All I said was she’s gorgeous. Jeez, man, ever had a crush?”

Keiji thought for a moment, and shook his head. Was he supposed to? It surely couldn’t have been as big of a deal as Konoha made it sound, with the indignant squawk and all, but Keiji still wondered what it would be like to have a crush.

Bokuto yelled out for the two of them to exit the club room and come practice. Their captain, Inaba Hitashi, explained that they were strictly going to be stretching and conditioning.

Konoha groaned and Keiji cocked his head, glancing at Bokuto who emitted a groan similar to Konoha’s. Bokuto glanced back at Keiji and immediately shut his mouth, fixing his posture and staring directly forward.

”You can just partner up randomly, I don’t care. I’m calling dibs on Sarukui because he’s the most flexible.” Inaba mumbled before jogging over to his friend.

Two other second-years, whom Keiji learned were Washio and Komi, partnered up as well. Konoha called out to another first-year friend he’d made on the team, Keiji didn’t have time to recognize them when he realized that nobody had asked to be his partner.

Keiji sensed someone looming behind him and whipped his head around, meeting Bokuto’s large - and confused - eyes. He flinched at the sudden movement and bounced on the balls of his feet before speaking, “Hey ‘Kashi.”

”Yeah?” 

“Do you wanna, maybe, eh, partner with me?” Bokuto dug the heel of his shoe into the hardwood floor and stared down at his feet.

”Sure.” Keiji motioned for Bokuto to follow him into the middle of the court. He sat down and folded his legs into a butterfly position.

”So do I just, like, push?” Bokuto kneeled behind him, hands hovering above Keiji’s knees, “Yeah, basically.”

Bokuto used the pads of his fingers to press down lightly on both of Keiji’s knees, sending a feeling similar to a tug down his hamstring. Keiji hissed through clenched teeth and leaned forward, face nearly touching his shoes as he did so.

Inaba called out for them to switch, Keiji stood up, knees wobbling slightly from the stretch. Bokuto sat down and danced in place for a second before Keiji placed his hands on his knees, pressing down lightly. Keiji could feel every muscle in Bokuto’s leg tensing as he pushed down just a little further, stopping when he felt his spiky hair brush against his chin.

”You almost broke me, ‘Kashi!” Bokuto gasped from underneath him as Keiji lifted his hands. Focusing on the way Bokuto’s muscles tensed probably wasn’t the _best_ way to pass time. 

They changed positions once more, this time Keiji sitting on the floor with his legs stretched out as far as they could to the side. Bokuto leaned forward against his back and he felt the boy’s steady breathing against the hairs on his neck. The scars from the weeks before had faded, and Keiji barely felt the way they stung when Bokuto’s laugh rumbled between them.

Once Keiji believed he’d yelped in pain enough, he ordered Bokuto to mimic the position he’d sat in previously. Bokuto obliged, his hands drumming an undecipherable melody into the floor. Keiji laid his full weight against Bokuto’s back, which barely budged considering the amount of muscle his body harbored.

“Jeez! That’s unfair.” Bokuto mumbled from underneath Keiji. He let out a breathy laugh that shook both him and Bokuto, “Oh. I didn’t notice.”

Bokuto rested his hands against the floor for stability before jolting backwards and knocking Keiji forward onto the hardwood in front of him with a muffled screech. He laughed heartily, crawling over him and pressing his face on the floor beside Keiji’s. He opened his eyes and glared into the warm, golden irises that swirled and glinted as if they were pure gold.

”That was just _mean._ ” Bokuto laughed and held out a hand for Keiji. Instead, Keiji picked himself up off the ground and looked at his captain for direction.

”I wish we had music, but, we’re just gonna do jumping jacks for five, burpees for eight, twenty laps around the gym and then plank.” Inaba curled his finger in a come-hither motion, facing toward Keiji and Bokuto.

The two boys jogged to their captain, the rest of the team staggering around the gym behind them and beginning their sets. Sarukui had a timer on his watch that beeped loudly when time was up, and Keiji noticed himself biting back a smile when it beeped a second too early and made everyone fall out of sync.

”Akashi! Akashi!” Bokuto called out once they’d finished plank, Keiji fish-flopping onto the ground, “Do you need someone to walk you home?”

Keiji was immediately reminded of his father’s harsh words about Bokuto, and shook his head, “Nah. Konoha lives closer to me.”

Bokuto’s mouth formed an ‘o’ and he cocked his head before smiling and heading off to the club room to change. Keiji and Konoha did the same, slipping off their sweaty clothes quietly and instead changing into something more comfortable. Bokuto hummed the tune of a song Keiji couldn’t recognize and hopped out of the room, picking up his back and cheering a goodbye before leaving.

”So, how was the unlucky-partnering-of-your-least-favorite-person? Did he burst your eardrums?” Konoha asked as he slid his gym bag onto his shoulder.

Bokuto was definitely not Keiji’s least favorite person. He yawned and rubbed his eyes before shrugging his shoulders and holding the doors open for his friend.

The cold night air nipped at their skin, both of them shivering in unison as they walked down the dirt pathway that led to their consecutive apartments. Keiji wiped some stray hair out of his eyes and blinked, adjusting to the darkness.

”I think you have more opinions of him than you’re letting on.” Konoha breathed, staring up at the stars.

”I really don’t. I think he’s a good person, and I’m glad to have him as an upperclassmen.” Keiji nodded, trying to convince himself of that as well. Bokuto was, well, _Bokuto._

Konoha dropped Keiji off at his father’s apartment and waved a goodbye before slipping off into the alleys that led to his own residence.

”How was practice, Ji?” His father asked once Keiji got settled on the couch, a glass of water and a protein bar in hand. 

“Fine. We did conditioning, and stuff, I guess.”

”Oh good.” He yanked the glass out of Keiji’s hand and placed it in the sink, earning a concerned - and fearful - look from his son.

”Dad?” Keiji mumbled, voice barely above a whisper.

”Did you talk to that Bokuto kid?” _Yes. He’s actually extremely ni-_

 _“_ No.” Keiji lied through his teeth, managing to etch a bored expression onto his face before his father nodded and smiled, “Good boy.”

Keiji’s father stood up and padded into his own room, shutting and locking the door behind him. Keiji let out a stuttered gasp of relief and ran to his room. He whipped out his phone and pressed the pads of his fingers against the screen.

**18 Results for: _Bokuto Koutarou_**

Keiji sighed and clicked on the first link, a video from Bokuto’s first year at Fukurodani Academy. His team had just made it to nationals and they were competing in their first match of the day.

The announcers voices distorted and came in and out of earshot as Keiji blinked his eyes shut for a moment, drowsiness enveloping him like a weighted blanket. He dropped onto his bed, cold hands finding their way under his pillow. He rubbed his feet together underneath his covers and clicked his phone off, sinking into the bed beneath him.

Konoha’s call at 4:28 AM knocked Keiji out of his slumber and forced him to blink his eyes open.

”Dude. What’s your favorite food?”

Keiji opened his mouth to speak and racked his brain. He waited for a few seconds to let the words spill out of his lips before he answered, “Uh, nanohana no karashiae. Why?”

”Bokuto asked me earlier and I woke up in a cold sweat about it right now.” 

“Yeah yeah, okay can I go back to sleep?”

”No! Just a few more questions.”

Keiji’s objection was silenced by Konoha’s sudden surge of energy, “Have you ever had a panic attack?”

”Uh, no? Listen I don’t know wh-“

”Shut up I’m reading, uh, do you avoid certain places because they make you anxious?”

”...Yes? What does this have to do with-“

”I said shut up! Uh- are your feelings of anx- shit- are your anxious feelings present all the time?”

Keiji’s head throbbed, he couldn’t recall when he _wasn’t_ aware of every exit on public transit, or when he hadn’t worn an extra four layers of shirts on the days he was home since the incident, “Yes?”

”Akaashi, did you lie on the first question?”

”How does one lie about their favorite food?”

”Not that! The other one.”

Keiji bit his bottom lip, sure he’d had a few run-ins with hyperventilation and the whole walls-are-closing-in-on-me type of thing, but he wouldn’t necessarily classify that as a panic attack.

”No. I’ve been close before, I think.”

”Okay, that’s all I needed, peace out my friend!” The receiver clicked and Konoha’s voice was merely lost in Keiji’s memories as he slipped back into a warm and comfortable sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have zero idea who Bo’s previous captain was and I definitely didn’t research it beforehand so everyone give a nice warm welcome to Inaba Hitashi. Anyways we’re finally getting somewhere yay!! I really wanted to start from zero with this though, so bare with me :)


	4. Prescriptions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is basically fluff and Akaashi pining, just bare with me here I promise angst is on its way <3

Konoha’s father’s apartment was conpletely different than what Keiji had expected it to be. It was cozy, and warm, and it had everything his didn’t.

”So, Keiji, how long have you been feeling this way?” Konoha’s father prodded, peering down at Keiji.

”Uh. Well I just think a lot, and then that leads to other stuff.”

”Like what, son?” 

Keiji blinked, had he really been _that_ obvious about everything? Surely not, “Uhm. Like sometimes it’s hard to see and focus on things, and I feel like my throat’s closing up and I can’t breathe.”

Konoha’s father hummed, flipping through a small booklet he’d placed by his desk. Konoha slipped through the door, face contorted as he held three steaming cups of tea in his hands.

”Thank you, Akinori.” Konoha’s father grabbed two cups and placed them on top of a stack of papers. 

About a week before Keiji was invited to Konoha’s apartment, his friend had woken him up in the early morning to ask him absurd questions. Apparently, Konoha had noticed Keiji’s flinching and jumpy attitude more than he did himself. 

Konoha’s father is the head physician at a pharmaceutical company a few blocks down from Fukurodani. Keiji was surprised, to say the least, when Konoha invited him over to ‘hang out’ and instead found himself sitting down in a leather chair getting - basically -interrogated.

”Keiji, I have very good reason to believe you suffer from severe anxiety, is there anything that’s happening right now that jumpstarted these feelings?” Keiji wanted to tell the truth, he really did, but he stared down at his fingers and prodded at his nail beds.

”No. It just happens, it’s hard to tell.” 

“Ah. I see. Well before I can prescribe anything, I need parental approval, is your father home?”

”Yes.”

”Wonderful, I’ll go talk to him right now, you may stay with Akinori until I get back.” Keiji nodded and watched as Konoha’s father stepped out of the room.

Konoha looked up at him expectedly from his place on the couch, and raised an eyebrow, “Am I a good friend or what?”

”I didn’t know that the stuff that happened had a name. How did _you_ know?” 

“Dad likes to talk about his patients with Mom, and I get caught up in the conversation too. Plus, I take meds of my own.”

Keiji’s eyes widened in concern, and Konoha laughed, “Nothing bad, don’t worry about it.”

”So...are the meds going to make me high or something?” Keiji tapped his feet against the floor.

”What? No, dude, if anything, you’re going to get a sedative. Basically it calms your brain down so it _can’t_ freak out like it always does.” Konoha used his unoccupied hand to poke his forehead, sipping his tea as he did so.

”Oh.” Keiji briefly asked himself how it would feel to not worry all the time, he wondered if maybe that’s how Bokuto’s brain worked. 

“Yeah. Hopefully your dad understands, otherwise we can’t give you the stuff.”

”I think he will.” Keiji prayed that he did, hopefully medication would help him relax, stop being so stuck up all the time. What would people think of him at school? Would he have to take pills? What would happen if he took too ma-

“I can hear your brain frying. You’ll be fine.”

Keiji jumped slightly at the sudden confrontation and nestled back into the chair. The leather creaked along with him as he rested his head along the backside and patiently waited for Konoha’s father to come back with news.

Keiji imagined taking a pill, feeling warmth and comfort fog his brain. He imagined being able to be hugged, to be touched without fear that the intentions of such were malicious. He hoped that his father would approve of his prescription, something that Keiji believed would make everything better.

Konoha’s father opened the door and called out to Keiji and Konoha in a cheery voice, “Good news!”

Keiji and Konoha exchanged glances as they waited for him to come into the living room. Keiji‘s eyes widened and his lips parted in shock, his mouth going dry.

”So, your father gave me permission to prescribe you medication.” Konoha’s father said nonchalantly as he came into the living room and sat down on the couch next to his son.

”R-really?” Keiji sputtered, not knowing whether or not they were playing a sick joke on him.

”Yes! In fact, I can take you down to the pharmacy right now and give you your medication. Eh, Akinori, make a note for me; 0.5 milligrams of Lorazepam orally three times a day.” Konoha immediately pulled out a notepad and started writing, per his father’s request.

Keiji stood up and bowed at a 90° angle, hands clenched into fists at his side, “Thank you so much, sir!”

Konoha’s father laughed and said, “Oh please, call me Morisuke.” 

“Eh, thank you, Morisuke.” Keiji stuttered, still bowing.

Konoha called him back up and the three exited the apartment together, piling into Morisuke’s car. Konoha looked at Keiji expectantly, hazel eyes lit up with pride.

”What?” Keiji whispered.

”You finally won’t be fucked up anymore!” Keiji winced at the curse word and glanced at Morisuke, who didn’t bat an eye.

”I’m glad.”

”Just be careful you don’t get, you know, _addicted._ ” Konoha looked at him knowingly, hand pressed into the seat cushion of the car.

Morisuke drove them down several streets, Keiji excitedly pointing at the window when they’d passed Fukurodani.

”Looks like some of the team is practicing.”

Konoha scoffed, “If by _team_ you mean Bokuto, then yes. He’s been really focused on his left side this week, I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

Keiji cocked his head. Bokuto _had_ been adamant about being able to spike on both his right and left side. Although, he needed a setter to help him with that.

Morisuke parked the car near the front of a building, and unlocked the back doors for both boys. Keiji and Konoha stepped out of each side of the car and began walking with Morisuke toward the pharmacy.

Morisuke pushed the doors open with his shoulder and allowed his son and Keiji to walk in. The fluorescent lights were bright against Keiji’s eyes, and he squinted and furrowed his eyebrows. 

“Good afternoon,” Konoha’s father paused and turned around, “Akinori, hand me my notes.” Konoha proceeded to give the notepad he’d written in previously to his father. Morisuke flipped through a few of the pages before settling on one and gliding behind the front desk.

”I intern here on weekends, sometimes. Usually its pretty slow, and it makes for good experience.” Konoha commented while leaning against the front desk.

Keiji looked around the room, sunlight peered in through the big windows lining the front and painted itself against a few of the chairs. The tile floor was clean, and the room smelled vaguely of aerosol spray. Keiji scrunched his nose and peered through the window that led to the back of the pharmacy.

Morisuke pushed open the door and walked back into the front office with a small bottle in hand. He motioned for Keiji to come to the front desk, so he obliged.

”Now Keiji, you’re going to take two pills three times a day until you run out, okay?” He handed the bottle to Keiji.

“In the morning, noon, and night, all with food, okay?” Keiji nodded and looked at the label of the bottle.

_Akaashi Keiji: 0.5 MG Lorazepam_

_Administer with food orally 3x a day._

Keiji rolled the bottle between his fingers and smiled, “Thank you very much, Morisuke.”

”It’s no problem, and because this is a very generic sedative I’ll provide zero charge until you have to up your dosage.” Morisuke wrote something down in his notepad and waved him off.

Konoha sprang forward and held his hand out for Keiji to show him the pill bottle. He took it and inspected the label, running his finger across the ridged edge of the cap before handing it back to Keiji.

“Welcome, Akaashi Keiji, to the wonders of brain relaxation.” Konoha raised a hand up and waved it slowly, almost as if wiping an invisible chalkboard.

”Do I start taking them today?” 

“Nah, start tomorrow so you have ‘em at breakfast, lunch and dinner.”

Keiji slipped the bottle into his pocket and left the pharmacy with Konoha, walking down the road that led to Fukurodani.

”I’m gonna go back to the pharmacy, I think Bokuto can walk you home, though.” 

Keiji shook his head and assured Konoha he’d be fine to walk home by himself as they reached the gym. Keiji slipped through the doors, pulling out an old pair of sneakers from the cubby before changing into them. Bokuto hadn’t heard him come in until the squeaking of his shoes alerted the boy of his presence.

”Hey! Akahshi!”

”It’s Akaashi.”

Bokuto looked down at the ball he had in his hands, then to Keiji, then down to Keiji’s shoes, and back up at his face again. His eyes lit up with excitement once he realized why Keiji was there.

”Do you...do you maybe wanna help me practice spikes? Just for a little?” He walked forward, right hand raised hopefully.

”I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t, Bokuto.” 

“Yay!” Bokuto all but squealed and tossed the ball to Keiji.

Keiji flopped onto the ground, his sweaty t-shirt sticking to his skin. He pressed his forearm over his eyes and breathed heavily, hearing Bokuto flop onto the ground not long after. 

“Your sets are the best!” Bokuto laughed airily from a few feet away. 

“Ah, thank you.”

After a few moments, Keiji picked himself up off of the ground and checked his phone. No missed calls from his father, a good sign. He looked over his shoulder at Bokuto, who’s face was flushed and shining with sweat. Keiji caught himself smiling at how happy he looked, crouching there with a dopey smile on his face, and bit his lip.

”Hey, ‘Kashi. If you need a shirt or something I have some in the club room. Follow me!” Keiji reluctantly tailed behind Bokuto, who was already pulling the hem of his shirt over his chest.

He slid open the doors, part of his back already exposed, and fumbled through the t-shirts on the shelves before handing one to Keiji, “Here ya go!”

Keiji looked at the ground and pulled off his shirt, forcing himself to keep his gaze off his friend. _Friend._ The word reverberated around his mind, taking hold of his heart and squeezing.

“...’Kashi?” Keiji jumped and whipped his head around to face Bokuto, who’s eye’s widened.

”What?” Keiji said hoarsely, clearing his throat. 

“What are those scars on your back?” _Shit._ Keiji froze, blankly staring at Bokuto’s face. He felt heat rush up to his cheeks and quickly pinched the bridge of his nose, hoping it’d hide his flush. _Maybe I’d be able to answer if you’d put your damn shirt back on._

”They’re nothing, just some stuff from when I was little.” Keiji mumbled, pulling on the shirt Bokuto had given him. It smelt vaguely of laundry detergent, and he wondered if it belonged to Bokuto.

”Oh. They looked a little concerning. If they’re not a big deal then it doesn’t matter!”

Keiji desperately wanted to tell Bokuto everything, he really did. So he didn’t stop himself when the tears fell, turning away to shield himself. Bokuto was halfway out the door when he heard Keiji sniff, and he immediately turned back around and stepped into the room wearily.

”Akaashi? Are you okay?” Bokuto stepped in front of Keiji, leaning down to meet his eyes, which were filled with tears. 

“I’m- I’m fine, Bokuto, it’s okay.” Keiji swiped at his eyes and began walking away, only to be pulled back by the wrist. Keiji gasped and Bokuto released his hand, looking down at him with a fearful look on his face.

”Uh...I know you don’t really- y’know, _like_ touching. But-but can I hug you? You seem like you need a hug.” A few tears and awkward gasps later, Keiji nodded, and Bokuto pulled him into his chest by the shoulders.

This was nothing like the hugs he’d received from his father, no, this was ecstasy’s reincarnate. Keiji relaxed his arms and dropped them by his sides, closing his eyes and nuzzling his face into the fabric of Bokuto’s shirt. He could feel Bokuto’s large hands gripping his shirt as well, but he didn’t mind. Keiji lifted his arms up and hooked them around Bokuto’s back, squeezing slightly.

”Your hair smells really good.” Bokuto mumbled into his shoulder, and Keiji shuddered at the feeling of his breath against his neck.

Keiji was the first to break the hug, pulling away once his tears had dried. He sheepishly apologized for the tear stain he’d left on Bokuto’s shirt.

”Ah don’t worry, it’s nothing. I’m always here for you!” He smiled as if nothing had ever happened, and Keiji’s hands began to moisten. He hadn’t noticed how fast his heart was beating until now, a good type of fast. It was exhilarating, and he craved more.

_Is this what a crush feels like?_

”Come on ‘Kashi! Let’s get you home.” Bokuto slipped a jacket on Keiji’s shoulders and motioned for him to follow him out of the club room. Keiji quickly realized that Bokuto had placed _his_ jacket on him, and he felt his chest tighten.

Keiji checked his phone, still no missed calls. Konoha had texted him reminding him to take his medication with food, but other than that, nothing. Keiji still didn’t want to take the risk of letting Bokuto walk him home and get hit again, so he removed the jacket and handed it to him.

”Ah no! Consider that your new team jacket, I’ve barely worn it anyways.” Bokuto shrugged, opening the gym doors and yanking his bag onto his shoulder. 

“I really don’t think I should-“

”Nope! I promise it’s okay.”

Keiji tightened the jacket around himself, taking in a deep breathe of the cologne-like scent that wafted into his nostrils, “Fine.”

He pretended not to see Bokuto pumping a tiny fist in the air as he waved goodbye. 

The air had gotten slightly colder, a little more bite to it than usual, and Keiji was grateful that Bokuto had been thoughtful enough to give him his jacket. He pulled out his phone and texted Konoha.

K:

[I have news]  
  


K:

[Did you finally end up making out with Bokuto or??]  
[Kidding^^]  
  


K:

[No, but I got a team jacket.]  
  


K:

[No way, that’s rude. Just cause you’re the favorite does NOT mean you get it all first >:0]  
  


Keiji snorted and typed back.

K:

[Calm down, it’s only a jacket. We’re supposed to get them next week anyways.]  
  


K:

[True true. Was he annoying per usual today?]  
  


K:

[No.]  
  


K:

[Kiss ass]  
  


Keiji rolled his eyes and turned off his phone, rounding the corner that led to his father’s apartment. He couldn’t see any light shining through the window, and he’d wondered if he was at that ‘friend’s house’ again. 

His assumptions reigned true as he unlocked the door and he met with complete and utter silence. He hummed and walked down the hall into his room, shrugging Bokuto‘s jacket off of his shoulders and pulling a clean pair of pajamas out of his dresser. He fished the pill bottle out of his pocket and placed it on top of it, it would be an obvious reminder in the morning.

He stepped into the bathroom, turning the shower handle so the water came out piping hot, and proceeded to grab the collar of his shirt, sliding it off from behind his head. Keiji turned his back to the mirror and peered over his shoulder, the scars on his back were barely noticeable, and he found he could only truly see them when he looked extremely close to his back. 

That sent a pang of something indecipherable to his chest and his eyes widened in the mirror. Either Bokuto was staring at his bare back in the club room, or he had incredibly good eyesight. Both of which were pretty probable, Keiji concluded as he stepped into the shower. 

The water was so hot it felt cold against his back, but Keiji sighed and let it soak his hair to the roots. He remembered how Bokuto had complimented the scent of his hair, so he squeezed out a large amount of cherry-scented shampoo into his hands and proceeded to lather it into his raven-like locks.

He tilted his head back and rinsed out the soap, the hot water running down his forehead and threatening to drip into his eyes. Keiji lathered his body in unscented body wash and scrubbed relentlessly until he felt he was free of sweat and grime.

He twisted the shower handle, stepping out onto the towel he draped across the floor and wrapping another towel around his waist. Keiji looked up at himself in the mirror, his dark eyelashes fanned outward, a flattering look for his unique eyes. His dark hair was wet and wavy against his forehead, one strand curling enough to make a small loop.

He pulled on his t-shirt, following it with his plaid pajama pants. He pulled the towel off the ground and hooked it onto the door, along with the one he’d wrapped around his waist.

When Keiji stepped out of the bathroom and into his room, his phone screen was lit up with missed call notifications. Keiji’s shoulders hunched with dread and he peeked one eye down at his phone.

**Missed Call From: Bokuto :)**

Keiji smiled and clicked the notification, waiting for Bokuto to answer. The receiver clicked and Keiji swore he heard a breathy laugh come from the other side.

”Hi ‘Kashi!” Bokuto nearly yelled through the speaker.

”Hello, Bokuto.” 

“Did you get home okay? I honestly would’ve walked you if you wanted.”

”No, it was fine, I’m home right now.” Keiji looked around his bedroom and rested his head on his pillows.

”Oh me too! It’s late, but I’m not tired yet, and Konoha told me to stop bothering him.”

”Don’t you have other second-year friends?”

”Er- well obviously, but I don’t talk to them that often.”

Keiji pressed his lips into a thin line. Sure, he’d made some pretty rude assumptions about Bokuto when they’d first met, but now he finds it hard to leave him _alone._

”Ah. So I’m the last choice?” Keiji’s dry humor took Bokuto a few seconds to process, but it wasn’t long before he cackled into the speaker.

”You’re,” Bokuto breathed, “You’re funny, Akashi.”

”It’s Akaashi.”

”Yeah yeah! Whatever.” The sound Keiji heard from the other line could only be recognized as someone flopping down onto a bed.

”So what did you need me for again? To get tired?” 

“Basically yeah. Just...talk about something, or anything, I’ll listen.”

”What do I talk about?”

”Anything.”

Keiji’s mind ran wild, what _should_ he talk about? Something easy for Bokuto to understand, “I started playing volleyball when I was se-“

”Not volleyball.” Bokuto breathed, and Keiji nearly _died._

”O-okay. Uh, well I like onigiri, my mom told me that my name meant something adjacent to ‘blessed.’”

”More.” Bokuto’s voice was barely a whisper, and Keiji heard the feint yawn he emitted from the other line.

”I’m allergic to carrots, I like reading shonen manga, I’ve even had a couple idea-“ Keiji was interrupted by obnoxious snoring, and he laughed to himself. 

“You’re an enigma, Bokuto. Good night.” Keiji yawned and hung up the phone, moving to the side to turn off his lamp and roll back onto his bed. _Bokuto Koutarou just called him to fall asleep._

Keiji fell asleep with a large smile on his face, hands folded together neatly on top of his stomach.

Keiji’s alarm shot him awake, and he remembered the pill bottle he’d placed atop his dresser the night before. He curled into his blankets, turning off his alarm and slipping out of the bed. He took the pill bottle along with him when he walked into the kitchen, pulling out two tablets and holding them in his hand.

He poured some water into a cup and swallowed the pills, sifting through the cupboards for something to eat. He decided on an old loaf of milkbread his dad brought home a few nights before he left. 

He pulled apart the bread, biting into it and reveling in the sweet, smooth way it moved around his mouth. He closed his eyes, finishing the last of the milkbread and following it up with a second glass of water.

Keiji was in the hallway, about to enter his room when there was a loud knock on the door. Nearly pissing himself, he ran over to the door and looked through the people, furrowing his brows and opening the door slightly.

”Hi!” Oh. Bokuto?

Keiji opened the door a little more and was met with Bokuto’s wide grin, “Ah! Sorry, did I wake you?”

Keiji shook his head, rubbing his eyes, “No, I’ve been up for a little bit.”

Bokuto laughed, looking Keiji up-and-down, “You look like you just rolled out of bed.”

”How polite of you.” Keiji yawned, yanking up the waistband of his pajama pants.

Bokuto opened and closed his mouth like a fish for a moment before turning and pulling something out of his bag. It was a white and black jersey, stripes of pale yellow running down the sides.

“Coach ordered our jerseys and I wanted to deliver ‘em.” He said with a smile as he handed Keiji the jersey. Keiji inspected it for a moment, admiring how the colors already accented Bokuto’s skin and he wasn’t even the one wearing it yet.

”Thank you, very much.” Keiji bowed his head and Bokuto bowed back, a light blush dusting his cheeks. He waved maniacally and ran to what Keiji assumed was Konoha’s apartment.

Keiji shut his door, bit his hand, and screeched. Bokuto really shouldn’t have that much of an effect on him. He was _literally_ just delivering jersey’s and happened to smile. Chill, Keiji, chill.

He folded the jersey and stuffed it into his gym bag neatly before running to the bathroom to inspect the damage that sleeping had done. His hair stuck up in every direction, and he groaned in embarrassment. There’s absolutely zero ways Bokuto could even look at him normally after this, _zero._

He blew air hard out of his nose and changed into Fukurodani’s uniform, combing his hair down and brushing his teeth. He checked the time, 7:47 AM, and left the apartment.

The walk to school was calming, the sun just barely cascading along the sidewalk, giving everything a pale yellow hue. The clouds were more apparent in the sky today, only a few splotches of bright blue could be seen between them.

Keiji met up with Konoha at the entrance building, Konoha’s eyebrows wiggled suggestively, “So, did you get your jersey?”

Keiji smiled, “Yes. I actually like it a lot.”

“Me too, it’s not too bad.”

The bell sounded and each student ran to their respective classes, Keiji to his own.

After school, Bokuto had pulled him aside to assure that everything was okay and nothing bad was truly happening. Thank god Bokuto hadn’t sat next to Konoha and Keiji at lunch, he surely would have freaked out when he saw the pills.

”I’m fine, Bokuto. Everything is okay, you don’t have to worry.” His voice came out calmer, smoother, than he’d anticipated and he wondered if the medication had taken effect.

”Okay! By the way, thanks for helping me fall asleep. The meaning of your name is really cool, it fits you, ‘Kashi.”

”It’s Akaashi.” Keiji sighed and Bokuto squawked in mock offense before leaving him alone. 

Konoha cornered him soon after, rambling something along the lines of ‘Aces favorite’ which made Keiji’s cheeks heat up.

He liked the idea of Bokuto liking him, but it wasn’t a necessity, just a nice benefit. Keiji still didn’t know what a crush was supposed to feel like, but he assumed that whatever _this_ was, was it. Lingering stares as Bokuto left the club room, Keiji going out of his way to partner up with Bokuto any chance he got, sharing food, - okay not the same spoon or anything, but take-a-bite-off-the-other-person’s-bite, type stuff - and, Keiji’s most valued reason; subtle physical affection.

When you look at Bokuto first glance, you see an energetic, happy, ray of sunshine that can do no wrong. While those features most definitely still apply, Keiji believes that Bokuto is much more emotionally intelligent than he lets on. He realized this when Bokuto _asked_ for a high-five. Asking for a high-five was the thing that really pushed Keiji over the edge. 

Somehow, in some way, Bokuto wormed his way into Keiji’s heart, and he definitely wasn’t leaving any time soon. Keiji _wished_ he could hate himself for it, but he couldn’t bring himself to. Bokuto was amazing, and that was just pure factual evidence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did some research on anxiety medications and found that Lorazepam (Ativan) can be administered to children above the age of twelve. It’s also a generic sedative which means it runs for cheaper than other benzodiazepines like Xanax. Also: Konoha’s dad is a physician because of some timeskip stuff I decided on a whim :)


	5. Can I?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let’s thank my seven different spotify playlists for making me want to get this chapter done!

“Okay guys, spring preliminaries are in two weeks, lets get our heads in the game.” Inaba projected, earning a few annoyed groans from the rest of the team.

”I _know_ you did not just slip a high school musical reference into your pep talk.” Konoha called, pointing an accusatory finger at their captain. 

“What? My girl’s been making me watch them. Not my fault.” Inaba shrugged and walked off toward his fellow upperclassmen.

Keiji chuckled to himself and watched as Konoha shook his head in disappointment. He recovered quickly and jogged over to Keiji, “Hey man, you ready to be a starting setter?”

Keiji vaguely remembered when Bokuto had mentioned something about it on his birthday, and nodded, “Yes.”

”Good, Bokuto’s gonna need all the help he can get if he goes into dejected mode during a game.”

Keiji and Konoha had come to terms with Bokuto’s ‘dejected’ mode on a late weeknight. Bokuto had been practicing cross-shots, slamming every single ball across the court with an obvious excess amount of power.

He’d somehow forgotten how to perform line-shots, sputtering out curses and excuses. Finally, on the seventeenth missed attempt, he crouched over, groaning loudly with both hands bunched into his hair.

”I can’t do it anymore!” He whined, guttural noises rumbling deep in his throat.

”Bokuto, you’re doing fine. Everyone misses sets, it’s normal.” Keiji hovered over him worriedly.

”It’s not normal when I miss seventeen times in a row!” He dropped his head onto his knees, arms wrapped tightly around his shins.

“It’s fine, you’re still one of Japan’s top three Aces, right?” Bokuto nodded, “So you’ll be able to bounce back no matter what.”

Bokuto smiled and sprang upwards, “You’re right! I’m the best.”

”That you are, Bokuto.”

Keijiput into a mental note that whenever Bokuto focuses hard on one thing, he completely forgets how to carry out anything else. 

He looked at Konoha and nodded, “I agree, but he bounces back rather fast.”

”True, but if he forgets how to do line or cross-shots again we’re doomed.”

Keiji hummed and looked over where Bokuto was seated on the floor, explaining something to Washio. He must’ve sensed Keiji’s stare as he looked directly back at him, smiling while he spoke. Keiji looked away and turned toward the direction of the club room, where the pill bottle in his gym bag rested. 

“By the way, how’s the 0.5 milligrams? Do you still feel the effects?” Konoha asked, an octave lower than how he’d spoken previously.

”They’re fine, I had a few bad side effects the first month, but I think they’re settling now.” 

“Ah, good! I’ll let my dad know.”

”Thank you, by the way, for helping.”

”Don’t worry about it, I kinda figured something was going on when you had that weird outburst at our junior high graduation.”

Keiji remembered locking himself in the bathroom stall, the sting of the tears that fell from his eyes. He’s glad that he has someone as caring as Konoha, because he definitely never would have sought out medication himself.

Inaba instructed the team to partner up with each other and work on jump serves and receives. Keiji glanced at Bokuto who was deep in conversation with another teammate, and decided to pair up with Konoha.

”Ready?” Inaba called from the side of the court.

”Yes sir!” The rest of the team yelled in unison, beginning their jump serves.

Keiji was by no means _bad_ at serving, in fact he was actually quite good. However, he’d forgotten to remind himself not to practice with Bokuto on the other side of the court next to Konoha, because he may have accidentally gotten caught staring a few times.

”Akaashi! Pay attention to _me._ ” Konoha yelled from his side of the court.

”Sorry!” Keiji yelled for the third time as he waited for Konoha to toss the ball back to him. 

Bokuto’s naturally good at most things, spiking, serving, making Keiji’s heart stop, jumping, all of the basics. So it wasn’t a surprise when Bokuto ran across the court to give him some pointers.

”Here, you wanna stand sideways and move your body along with your arm.” Bokuto raised his eyebrow at Keiji for permission to reposition him. Keiji nodded and Bokuto slowly placed a hand on his shoulder and waist, turning him to the side.

It was a completely innocent no-hidden-meanings touch, but Keiji still felt his face heat up every time Bokuto lifted his hand to place it somewhere else on his back.

Once Bokuto believed Keiji had been put in the correct position to serve, he whispered an apology and bounded away. Keiji found that the way Bokuto repositioned him was actually quite helpful, his serves were more accurate and Konoha didn’t have to run to receive the ball as often.

Inaba called for each pair to switch sides, so it was Keiji’s turn to receive. Bokuto smiled at him as they passed eachother, and Keiji pretended to ignore Konoha’s suggestive hums.

Practice had finished late, _dreadfully_ late, yet again. Keiji had almost decided to simply run away, avoid confrontation with his father and go live a life somewhere else. Hopefully, in a different universe, where he wasn’t held down by his brain hardwired to worry, where he didn’t have to scold himself for staring at Bokuto the way he did, where he could breathe without feeling suffocated.

“Akashi, you okay? You look a little, deep in thought.” Bokuto looked down at him, those _beautiful_ honey-brown eyes staring seemingly into his soul.

”It’s Akaashi,” Bokuto rolled his eyes, “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? Nobody else is here, we- we can talk. Only if you want to!” Bokuto palmed his forehead and glanced down at the floor.

”That sounds like it would be relieving, but, you might not like what you hear.” Keiji assured, hoping to leave as soon as possible.

“Nothing’s gonna change my...my perception of you, man!” Bokuto smiled, he smiled that beautiful smile that Keiji believed could coax anything out of anyone.

“Are you sure?” Keiji’s heart thrummed against his chest, and he drove his hands into his gym shorts. His mind ran wild - did he forget to take his meds? - with the worry that Bokuto _would_ think of him differently.

How often do you get told your friend has a mental illness and has to take medication for it to not fuck up his brain? Keiji’s head throbbed, and Bokuto cinched his eyebrows as if he understood exacty why he’d been worried.

”I’m here for you, ‘Kashi!” Keiji noticed Bokuto reach his hand out, if only for a moment, and pull his arm back. 

“O-okay.” Keiji nodded to himself and sat down, right on the floor of the club room. Bokuto sat down too, wincing as his knee’s cracked when he kneeled.

”Whenever you’re ready.” Bokuto’s hands rested on top of his lap, index fingers prodding at one another. 

Keiji gathered his thoughs, _where to start,_ and took in a deep breath, meeting Bokuto’s eyes. He smiled, a light flush resting on the tip of his nose. Keiji stared for a moment, scanning the light shine on Bokuto’s forehead, most likely from sweat. His eyes darted between the gold irises that peered back, inspecting his long eyelashes that nearly reached his eyebrow. 

Keiji admired Bokuto’s cheeks, a dimple residing on the left corner of his mouth. His teeth, perfectly straight, were exposed in a wide grin. His lips, slightly chapped, pursed in confusion as he noticed Keiji’s stare.

”Ah, sorry.”

”It’s fine!” 

Keiji breathed once more, closing his eyes and angling his head downwards so he wouldn’t have to see Bokuto’s disappointment. 

“I take medication. It’s- it’s basically, something wrong inside my head. I worry, and worrying is usually normal, it happens to everyone. But- for me, at least, it’s worse. It fogs up my brain and chokes me up so I can’t focus on anything and I,” He breathed.

Keiji couldn’t believe that he was telling Bokuto any of this in the first place. He met him nine months ago and he was practically handing him his life story on a silver platter.

”...Go on.” Bokuto whispered, voice cracking.

”I, I feel like I lose a little bit of myself every time it happens. It’s like, I’m not me anymore and I can’t, I can’t handle it very well. It’s difficult.” Keiji swiped a hand over his eye and looked back up at Bokuto.

”’Kashi. Why- why did you think I’d be mad.”

”I don’t know- it all sounds disappointing to me.” 

“C-can I hug you? Again..?” Bokuto asked hesitantly, waiting to be rejected.

” _Please.”_ Keiji sighed as Bokuto’s arms pulled around him. He reeked of sweat, and faintly of hair gel, but Keiji didn’t care. He nuzzled his cheek into the crook of Bokuto’s neck and closed his eyes. He slid his hands up the sides of Bokuto’s shirt, resting them in between his shoulder blades.

”Thank you for telling me.” Bokuto mumbled against Keiji’s hair. Keiji swore he felt a few drops of tears fall onto his head, but when he moved to look up he was only pushed closer to Bokuto’s chest.

”Thank you for listening.” Keiji mumbled against Bokuto’s shirt, inhaling deeply.

Keiji pulled away, briefly apologizing for taking up time and standing up to grab his bag and head out of the gym. Waving off Bokuto’s persistence to walk him home for the third time in a row, he ran down the streets. 

The road lights had turned on, illuminating the uneven sidewalk and the plants that rested themselves in between the cracks in the cement. Keiji panted and turned the corner, running as fast as he could toward his father’s apartment. 

He unlocked the door, pinching his eyes shut as he prepared for the worst, “Dad?”

”Keiji.” His father stood up from his place on the couch, “Where have you been?”

”At practice.” Keiji bit his bottom lip and stared directly into his fathers eyes. Nothing but malice could be seen in the irises he’d inherited.

”Ah. I see, well, you’re late.” He smiled, shoulders moving upwards in a half-shrug.

”I know, I’m s-sorry.”

“You’re not sorry for shit. You were probably hanging out with that Ace, weren’t you? Hm? Did you have _fun_ , Keiji?”

Keiji’s eyes welled with tears of anger and frustration. Bokuto would _never_ do something like that, he would never, ever, use anything like that to his advantage. Keiji’s eyebrows furrowed, “Stop it.”

His father licked the top row of his teeth, “Talk back to me again, see what happens.”

”I told you, to st-“ His father’s fist connected to his face with a sickening crack. Keiji’s vision fogged over and he knocked his head hard against the floor, choking on his own blood.

”You,” Keiji’s father paused to punch him once more, in the jaw this time, “Will not,” _punch_ “Talk to me,” _punch_ “Like that,” _punch_ “Ever,” _punch_ “Again.” 

Keiji flailed his legs around aimlessly as his mouth and nose spurted blood and he was left writhing in the middle of the hallway. His chest tightened, air ceased flowing into his lungs for a split second. His hands flew up to cradle his nose as he tried to push himself forward, raising his head off the ground.

A disgusting mixture of blood and saliva dribbled from Keiji’s mouth as he stood up, wiping away his bottom lip with the collar of his shirt. Salty tears slid down his cheeks, resting in the open wound of his lip. 

This was a completely different type of pain. It numbed him, glazed over his thoughts and took over his brain. The painful throbbing had now reduced to a feeling as faint as a pulse, thrumming in his ears and reverberating around his chest. Blood soaked through the fabric of his shirt, surely staining his chest.

Keiji padded to the bathroom once his knees had regained their strength, locking the door and staring up at himself in the mirror. His eyes were bloodshot and puffy, most likely from the hard blow to his nose. His bottom lip had been busted open, dried blood caked around the corners of his mouth.

He sighed, turning on the sink and cupping his hands underneath the water. It was cold against his skin, refreshing against the open cuts that littered his face.

”This is a shitshow.” He whispered into his hands, turning on the shower and pulling out his phone. Bokuto had messaged him good night, he smiled and typed back a reply, notifying him he’d made it home.

Keiji dropped his phone onto the counter and quickly reminded himself of the blood leaking from his nose when he pulled off his shirt, which was soaked through the fabric with blood - and probably snot.-

To his dismay, blood had most definitely stained the upper area of his chest, a light pink splotch that reached up to his collarbones. He scrubbed as hard as he could, washing away the remnants of his father’s hatred.

Keiji lathered his hair in the same cherry-scented shampoo his mother bought for him when he was younger. He’d been told it was childish in grade school, that the way his hair smelled was girly. Even then, it was the same smell that Bokuto had complimented so whole-heartedly. The same smell he wished he could drown himself in, to get an ounce more affection from him.

Keiji twisted the shower handle, prodding at his sore nose as he stepped out of the shower. Most of the bleeding had stopped, instead traded for heavy bruising and puffy eyes. He sighed, contemplating how he’d manage to cover it all up tomorrow.

Putting that thought aside, Keiji lazily slipped on his pajamas and tip-toed into the living room to see if his father had gone to sleep. His body lay draped across the couch, one arm sliding off onto the floor.

Keiji filled up a glass of water and padded back into his room, opening the pill bottle and dropping two onto his palm. He placed both capsules in his mouth, gulping them down with a heavy amount of water.

Keiji breathed in and out for a moment in comfortable silence. He assumed that Bokuto was fast asleep already, so he decided to opt out of calling him for comfort. Konoha would do just fine.

K:

[Hey.]  
  


K:

[Go to sleep Akaashi]  
  


K:

[Not tired.]  
  


K:

[Sleepsleepsleeeeeeeeeep]  
  


K:

[Can I tell u something?]  
  


K:

[Did you actually just use ‘u’ instead of ‘you’?]  
[Yea]  
  


K:

[I don’t think my dad is a good person]  
  


K:

[What brought u to that conclusion?]  
  


K:

[He hit me]  
  


K:

[What KIND of hit?]  
  


Keiji sighed and turned off his phone. They’d find out soon enough when he came to school with dark bruises underneath his eyes. 

Bokuto was the last to notice. Keiji didn’t mind him not noticing, he really didn’t. It was comfortable without his eyes on him all the time. However, Bokuto was the first to freak out about it once he did notice.

”’Kashi, what happened to you?” He asked, eyebrows pinching together in confusion.

”Nothing. I ran into a door.”

”How fast were you running to hit a door that hard?” Bokuto hesitated before lifting a hand, and Keiji flinched away before it could make contact with his face.

“I don’t know.” He prodded at the puffy area surrounding his right eye, wincing when he pressed down too hard on a bruise. 

“I’m taking you to the nurse and telling Inaba you can’t come to practice.”

”But I don’t want to go home early.”

”It’s fine! I’ll get you some ice and we can go do something fun. Like a date.” Keiji’s eyes widened and Bokuto immediately corrected himself, face flushed with embarrassment “Er, not a _date_ date, unless you- nevermind.”

”It’s fine. I’ll see you later then.” Keiji waved and walked to his last class, preparing to explain his black eye for the twenty-third time today.

Surprisingly, none of his classmates asked. Not even when he was directly facing them in conversation, which he was thankful for. 

The bell’s ringing echoed around the hallways and let every student know it was time to leave. Keiji, however, tasked himself with finding where exactly Bokuto’s last class was. He’d remembered how quickly and without-hesitation Bokuto called their little meet-up a date. Keiji. Him. Date.

”’Kashi!” Keiji heard from somewhere behind him, he whipped his head around and met Bokuto’s large eyes, squinting in the sun.

”Hello.”

“Come with me, we’re gonna go have fun, and, uh, what do you want to do?”

”Anything is fine.” Keiji watched as Bokuto stared upwards in thought and nibbled on his bottom lip.

”Okay, follow me!” Bokuto waved his arm forward and jogged off, Keiji following close behind him.

Bokuto lead them both to a small clearing a few blocks away from the school, covered in blooming flowers and ferns. March had treated blooming season well, with the light pink cherry blossoms revealing themselves during the day.

Keiji nearly sprinted over to the cherry blossom tree, spreading his arms out and admiring every single little flower. Bokuto bounded up next to him not long after, picking a blossom off of one of the branches and placing it on top of Keiji’s head.

”Bokuto- that tickles.” Keiji breathily laughed while shaking the flower off of his head.

”I’m simply accentuating your beauty.” Bokuto smiled.

Keiji pressed his arms against one of the thick branches that lay low to the ground, and tried to push himself up. After three failed attempts, Bokuto’s hands hovered at his sides, waiting for permission.

”Can I?” Bokuto whispered against the shell of Keiji’s ear.

”Yeah.” Bokuto hoisted Keiji up onto the branch, pulling himself up afterwards. They both laughed at how the leaves and blossoms shook with the added weight, and turned to admire the field.

“It’s really pretty up here.” Bokuto said, almost shyly.

”It is. You know, I used to go out and watch the cherry blossoms bloom with my mom and dad.”

”Oh? That’s so cool!” 

“Yeah. It’s nice up here, thank you.” Keiji stared down at the field in front of them, inspecting every flower, every bush. What he failed to notice, was Bokuto leaning closer to his face.

He turned his head and clocked his nose against Bokuto’s, yelping and falling backward off the branch. Keiji reached out for anything that he could hold onto to pull himself back up until he felt Bokuto’s large hand grasp tightly against his wrist and yank him up to sit straight.

”I am _so_ sorry-“

”What were you trying to do?” Keiji pursed his lips and stared at him. 

“Okay- well, you see, I was trying to get a closer look at your- your- um, your black eye.” Bokuto rubbed the nape of his neck, staring down at the grass below them.

”You were trying to get a better look at my eye...with your eyes closed?”

”No!” Keiji cocked his head, and Bokuto sputtered out meaningless responses, “Uh- do you _really_ want to know why?”

”It doesn’t matter, but thank you for helping me back up.” Keiji smiled. Of course he _knew_ what Bokuto was trying to do. He immediately noticed the boy’s puckered lips when he turned his head, which startled him along with the hit against his nose.

”Oh. Okay.” Oh no. Is he sulking? Keiji looked at Bokuto with a piercing stare, coaxing him to look into his eyes again. He glanced up, his bottom lip jutting outwards in a half-pout. Keiji shifted his position on the branch and scooted backwards, pressing his back against Bokuto’s chest.

”W-what are you doing?” Bokuto raised his arms wearily as Keiji snuggled his head underneath his chin.

”Tired.” Keiji mumbled. He could nearly feel Bokuto’s heartbeat against his cheek, thrumming so quickly it seemed to vibrate his whole body.

”..Okay.” Bokuto sighed, resting his chin on Keiji’s head. Keiji felt strong arms wrap around his torso, and comfortable silence washed over the both of them. 

Bokuto’s breathing evened out along with Keiji’s, both of them falling asleep to the symphony of their heartbeats.

Keiji woke up to the chilling air of the evening and accidentally knocked the top of his head against Bokuto’s chin.

”Ouch.”

”Sorry, Bokuto. What time is it?” Keiji felt Bokuto’s hand move into _his_ pant pocket and fish out his phone.

”Oh, thank you.” The time read 7:52 PM. If Keiji left right now he’d be home late enough not to raise suspicion. The only problem with that was: he had absolutely no idea where he was or how to get home.

”’Kashi. I have no idea where your apartment is.” 

“Me neither.” Keiji felt Bokuto tense up behind him.

”You could...stay at my place.” Bokuto breathed, removing his hands from where they had previously rested on Keiji’s stomach.

”I could, but I’d have to tell my father.”

”Tell him then. I don’ mind.” Bokuto slurred his words, and he yawned into Keiji’s ear.

“Okay.” Keiji typed in his phone password, opening the messages app.

K:

[I’m going to be staying at Konoha’s tonight. We’re watching a new episode of that anime I was talking about]  
  


D:

[K. Be home tomorrow. Don’t hang out with Bokuto.]  
  


Keiji scoffed and switched to his conversation with Konoha.

K:

[If anyone asks, I’m at your house right now.]  
  


K:

[OOoOoOooO is my boy finally getting some action.]  
  


K:

[No.]  
  


K:

[Use protection ;))]  
  


Keiji scoffed again and turned off his phone, prodding Bokuto back awake. Bokuto slid off the tree branch first, followed by Keiji, who tailed behind him on their way to Bokuto’s apartment.

It was large, bigger than what Keiji had expected, anyways.

”My uh- my parents aren’t home. Sorry if you’re not comfortable with that, they just, work a lot.”

”It’s fine, I don’t care.” He really didn’t. He’d been stuck in much worse places after dark anyways, a large apartment with his crush was not nearly as bad as the things he’d experienced before.

”Are you hungry? I have some salmon left over from yesterday, if you want.”

”Thank you for the offer, but I’m not hungry yet.” Keiji bowed his head.

Bokuto looked almost...nervous? Sure, Keiji had seen him with a dark blush, deeper than the maroon of his own blood, and he’d been there to observe when he got so flustered he couldn’t make out proper words. But now, his voice was quiet, his eyes never quite meeting Keiji’s.

“You can come to my room if you want!” Bokuto perked up, his smile faltering for a moment before half-dragging Keiji to his room.

It was surprisingly neat, a few volleyball magazines strewn across the floor, and a blanket halfhazardly draped over his desk chair, but neat nonetheless. Pictures of Bokuto had been taped to the wall in neat patterns. Close-ups of him spiking, an unflattering view of his backside - who took that? - and beautiful snapshots of him smiling at parties, with friends, even a few of him alone in his own room.

”Do you wanna see some pictures of me at nationals?” 

Keiji paused and mentally prepared himself to be whipped by whatever Bokuto had in store, “Yes.”

”Okay!” Bokuto fished through a few drawers of his desk and pulled out a neat stack of polaroids, “The camera was a bitch to bring to nationals, almost dropped it when I was taking a team photo.”

Keiji laughed and sat down on the corner of Bokuto’s bed, folding his legs in and grabbing the stack of pictures that he held out. He flipped through each of them, inspecting Bokuto’s wide smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling in excitement. He felt the blush seeping into his cheeks, and he was sure Bokuto had noticed now.

”These are all wonderful, Bokuto.”

”Ah! Thanks, we actually- um, we actually lost that day.” He pinched the bridge of his nose as if regretting his words.

”I’m sure you still did amazing, Bokuto.”

”Really?”

”Yes.”

A heavy silence washed over them both, encasing them in their own little bubble. Keiji darted his eyes down to Bokuto’s lips, parted and pink, the light of his lamp shining off of them ever so slightly. 

“Your black eye. It looks painful, ‘Kashi.” Bokuto leaned closer, Keiji’s breath hitched in his chest.

”It is quite painful now that I think about it.”

“Fortunately for you, my disciple—“

”Disciple?”

”Shh! Fortunately for you, I have a special technique to remove black eyes.” Bokuto smiled and poked right underneath his right eye.

”What does it entail, Bokuto?”

”You have to close your eyes for it to work!” He said matter-of-factly.

Keiji sucked in a breath and closed his eyes, focusing on everything he heard and felt. He felt the bed creak as Bokuto sat next to him, the pads of his fingers just barely grazing against his own.

”Can I...touch you?” Bokuto breathed, the distance between them hadn’t changed, but Keiji felt the nervousness seep through each syllable. He nodded, and Bokuto didn’t move.

”Say it, _please._ ” 

“Yes, Bokuto.” Keiji sighed, and waited for something he realized he’d yearned for. 

Bokuto’s palm pressed against the back of his hand, fingers lightly dragging along the skin of his forearm. Keiji listened to Bokuto’s heavy breathing as he inched closer.

Instead of a kiss on the lips, Bokuto had pressed chaste, barely-there kisses against his eyelids. His breath nearly seared Keiji’s cheek as he moved to kiss below his right eyelid, then to his cheek. Bokuto kissed the bridge of Keiji’s nose, the apples of both of his cheeks, his forehead, in between his eyebrows. He never once met his lips.

After what felt like a moment in heaven, Keiji felt Bokuto’s breath, _hot_ against his lips.

”Can I kiss you?” _No._ _You shouldn’t._ _You’re going to hurt yourself if you do that._ I’m going to hurt you.

”Yes, Bokuto.” Keiji’s lips parted as he sounded out the last syllable of Bokuto’s name. 

Bokuto brushed his lips against Keiji’s. The smallest touch, barely registered in Keiji’s brain. He was desperate, longing for anything that Bokuto could possibly give him.

” _Akaashi.”_ Bokuto sighed, gripping Keiji’s hand, “Kissing back isn’t a kiss.”

Keiji’s eyes remained closed, scared to confront his obvious embarrassment, “What do you w-want me to do?”

”Kiss me.”

Keiji leaned forward, wincing as his nose bumped against Bokuto’s. He tilted his head, meeting his lips once more. Bokuto slid his mouth against Keiji’s in a silent rhythm, soft, wet ‘clicks’ reverberating around Keiji’s skull.

Keiji tensed up when Bokuto’s tongue prodded at his bottom lip, eventually letting the muscle slide into his mouth. Keiji slid his tongue underneath Bokuto’s, tasting the warm, velvety skin that lay underneath.

Bokuto _whined._ He whined and gasped into Keiji’s mouth, sliding his tongue along his upper row of teeth. Bokuto removed his tongue from Keiji’s mouth, and bit down softly on his bottom lip, a hitched sigh escaping from the back of his throat.

He pulled away with a ‘pop’ and leaned back on the bed. Keiji opened his eyes, staring intently down at Bokuto’s lips, swollen and red from kissing.

”I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.” Bokuto laughed, “C-can I do something else?”

Keiji pulled at the skin of his thumb, “What is it?”

“If it’s uncomfortable we can- we can stop. Okay?” 

“Alright. Go ahead.”

Bokuto ran his hand up Keiji’s forearm, settling it on his shoulder. He placed soft, open-mouthed kisses against his jaw, pausing to suck on Keiji’s earlobe. It felt good, _too good_ , and Keiji’s mouth went slack in pleasure as Bokuto licked his soft skin with his tongue. Keiji felt his teeth bite down against the nape of his neck, and he jolted backwards.

”B-Bokuto!“ Keiji yelped, Bokuto immediately pulling away in concern.

”I’m so sorry- I didn’t mean to do that-“

”It’s fine, keep going.” Keiji’s shoulders relaxed, and Bokuto repositioned himself against Keiji’s neck. He brushed his lips along his Adam’s apple, sliding his tongue along the underside of his thyroid gland.

Keiji moaned. Like actually, no-filter, no holding back, _moaned._ Bokuto pulled away with a smile on his face, biting his bottom lip ever so slightly.

”I think you’re beautiful, Akaashi.”

”You’re not so bad yourself.”

”Oh shut up! We just had a hot makeout sesh and you’re tearing me down already?”

”I’d hardly call it hot.” That was a lie, if he’s being completely honest, it was the hottest thing he’s ever been apart of. His heart thrummed in his chest, aching for something it hadn’t been given in a while.

”Shoot- my pills! I need to take them one more time and then we can sleep!” Keiji opened the pocket of his school bag he’d dropped on the floor and fished the pill bottle out. He dropped both pills into his mouth, washing them down with the bottle of water he’d packed earlier.

Keiji noticed Bokuto’s stare and looked at him quizzically. 

“Your Adam’s apple moves when you swallow.”

”Yeah, it does, doesn’t it.” 

“It’s kind of cool, can you do it again?”

”...Swallow?”

”Yeah!” 

Keiji took another swig of water and gulped loudly, something warm settling in his stomach as he watched Bokuto’s smile grow.

”Do you have a change of clothes, I’d rather not sleep in my uniform.” Keiji asked while sliding the cap back onto the water bottle.

”Oh! Yeah, theres some stuff in my closet you can borrow if you want.”

Keiji nodded and slid open the closet doors, pulling out the smallest t-shirt and pair of sweats he could find. He slipped into the bathroom Bokuto had instructed him to change in and locked the door.

His face was still glowing a faint pink, and his lips were swollen, similar to Bokuto’s. He pulled off his shirt, wondering how brave Bokuto would have to be to slide his hand underneath the thin fabric.

He shook his head and slipped his head through the wide collar of Bokuto’s shirt. It hung weirdly below his collarbones, and it was long enough to cover his hips.

He slipped on the sweats shortly after, they bunched up awkwardly around his ankles and nearly sagged beneath his hips, so he was grateful for the shirt.

Keiji stepped out of the bathroom and back into Bokuto’s room, where he’d sprawled himself against the bed like some sort of spider. He turned and grinned at Keiji, who smiled softly in return.

”I think I have a futon somewhere, unless you want to sleep on the couch!” Bokuto suggested, pressing his index finger to his bottom lip in thought.

“Your bed fits two people.”

”Oh yeah! It does.” Bokuto sat up and patted the space beside him, scooting over on the bed to provide more room for Keiji.

”You look so small in my clothes.”

”That’s rich. You just begged me to kiss you.”

”And you _did_! I think that speaks for itself.” Bokuto reached over Keiji to turn off the lamp on his bedside table. 

Darkness lapped over them, engulfing Keiji in his own uncomfortable thoughts. Bokuto’s arm proved to be a good distraction, when it hovered above Keiji’s waist before Keiji moved it to wrap around him himself.

Keiji’s hair itched his neck weirdly, so he rocked back and repositioned his head. He could’ve sworn Bokuto had moved back slightly, only for a moment, before relaxing once more.

Again, Keiji jutted his hips backward to pull the waistband of Bokuto’s sweats up, and he heard him _hiss._

“Are you okay?” He asked innocently.

”Fine!” Bokuto whisper-yelled back.

Keiji almost stopped, he nearly did, but the waistband had now slipped uncomfortably far below his tailbone and he needed to fix—

“Ak-aash-shi!” Bokuto sputtered, backing so far away he knocked his head against the wall his bed was pressed up against.

”What?”

”Maybe, _don’t_ do that.” 

Oh. _Oh._ Keiji clamped a hand over his mouth and nearly screamed once he realized what had happened. 

“I’m so sorry, Boku-“

”Shh, it’s fine. I haven’t- you’re the- gah! Just sleep.” Bokuto smushed his face into the pillow.

Keiji was quickly swept away by sleep, as well. He should have eaten something before he took the pills, his stomach gargled uncomfortably. He didn’t mind, though, there were all too many things happening that distracted him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Longest chapter I’ve written so far, MAJOR apologies for the delay in updating, I had an exam today so I couldn’t get a lot done. I am so bad at writing kissing scenes, I had to use all of my imagination on this D:


	6. 19-23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may or may not be writing fluff so I can break your hearts with the next few chapters....<3

The lights shone brightly overhead, illuminating the hardwood floor that lined the gym. Keiji heard the faint squeaking of rubber soled shoes against the ground, and winced.

It had been two weeks since that fateful night with Bokuto Koutarou. Two weeks since Keiji embarrassed himself by moaning - loudly - in his ear. Two weeks since he’d accidentally gave him a hard-on when he tried to pull up his pants.

Nothing had happened since then. It’s not like Keiji went out of his way to avoid Bokuto, no, definitely not that. He’d had to up his dosage after his panic attack the next day. Konoha, unfortunately, had to hear Keiji’s incessant mumbling about how soft and warm Bokuto’s lips were.

He looked around the gym at his opponents. They wore deep-red team jackets, the stark white words, ‘Nekoma’ branded over their shoulder blades.

“Nekoma’s supposedly a really strong team.” Konoha inquired from beside him.

”Really?” Keiji glanced at him, feeling around his bag to make sure the pill bottle had stayed put.

”Yeah. They’ve got good defense, you see that tall dude, that’s Kuroo.”

”He _is_ quite tall.

”Yeah. Taller than Bokuto, too.”

”Woah.” If he was taller than Bokuto then that meant he was probably somewhere around six feet tall. 

Bokuto appeared beside Keiji, an excited smile on his face. His eyes shined with confidence and determination. Keiji smiled and looked back at Nekoma, who’s middle blocker was already making his way toward the team.

”Well hello, Bokuto.” Kuroo smirked, exposing a rather sharp canine on the side of his mouth.

”Kuroo!” Bokuto cheered, and pulled him into a tight hug. Kuroo stumbled forward and clapped his arms against Bokuto’s back.

“Glad to see you again, dude! We’re gonna be third-years soon.” 

“Yeah, I can’t believe it, to be honest.”

”I don’t think I’ll be able to live through leaving Kenma.” Kuroo laughed and glanced over at a boy who was sat stretching on his side of the court. 

Bokuto giggled and leaned up to whisper in Kuroo’s ear, a light blush dusting the tips of his ears as he did so. Kuroo stared at Keiji, who shuffled awkwardly in place and stared back.

Bokuto patted Kuroo’s shoulder and mentioned something about speaking to ‘Kenma’ before he ran towards Nekoma’s side of the court.

”You must be Akaashi?” Kuroo narrowed his eyes at him, his smirk still ever-plastered onto his face.

”Yeah. Pleasure to meet you—“

”Kuroo.” 

“Kuroo. I’m excited to play with you today.”

”Likewise. You’re the one with Bokuto? I thought he picked someone more...outgoing.”

Keiji curled his upper lip in confusion and Kuroo further explained himself, “You’re his first kiss, I mean.”

Keiji knew he’d kissed Bokuto, but he had absolutely no idea he’d been his _first_ kiss.

”What?”

”Yeah, you guys sucked face a couple weeks ago? He wouldn’t shut up about it.”

”Oh. Yeah.” Keiji could have screamed right then and there. Other people _knew_? Just how large of a mouth did Bokuto have?

”So was he good? I gave him some pointers.” 

Keiji’s mind flashed with vivid memories of Bokuto’s whines mixing with his gasps and his large hands squeezing Keiji’s shoulders.

”Yes.” He choked out.

”Was he uh- was he yours?”

”Yes.” It came out much quieter than Keiji had expected, his voice nearly cracked when he sounded out the ‘e’.

“Nice.” Kuroo drew out, nodding proudly as he turned and jogged to shoo Bokuto away from the boy Keiji assumed was Kenma.

Bokuto sprinted back towards Keiji, Kuroo tailing closely behind him. He yelled something unintelligible as he ran past, Kuroo making another abrupt stop next to Keiji.

”Can I steal you away for a sec?” He whispered, holding his hand out for Keiji to grasp. He shook his head and Kuroo dropped his hand, albeit defeatedly, before beginning to chase Bokuto again.

“Akaashi! Help!” Bokuto screamed before Kuroo hit him in the head with a plastic water bottle. Keiji laughed and ran toward his - friend? - to help him out.

”You can’t keep putting yourself in these situations, Bokuto.” Keiji said while smoothing out the sides of Bokuto’s spiked-up hair. Bokuto looked down at him in awe, jaw going slack with surprise.

”Wow! Bokuto’s whipped!” Sarukui yelled from the far side of the court.

”Shut _up!_ ” Bokuto whined before getting sucked back into the trance that was Keiji’s fingers, “Feels...really good.”

Bokuto’s eyebrows cinched and Keiji continued to massage his scalp, threading his fingers through black and grey hair. A low hum rumbled from the back of Bokuto’s throat, but it was cut short by the referee announcing that the match would begin shortly.

Fukurodani and Nekoma proceeded to their respective changing rooms. 

“So, is Bokuto’s hair crunchy?” Konoha asked in between hushed giggles.

”...Unfortunately yes, I think I have stab wounds from his hair spikes.”

Konoha cackled and looked over at Bokuto, who had already begun taking off his shirt. Keiji followed suit not long after, and looked away as soon as he turned his head.

The locker rooms were cold and awkward and loud with the bustle of clothes against skin and bag zippers against metal. Keiji slipped off his shirt facing the lockers as to not catch anyone’s eyes on him, for the sake of his, and their own, embarrassment. 

He pulled on the white and black jersey, smoothing it out over his stomach and making sure the shorts were pulled up properly.

”Ready?” Bokuto called, holding the door open for the team.

”Hell yeah!” A few of his teammates called.

Keiji nodded and walked out of the locker room, Bokuto shutting the door behind him.

”Hey, ‘Kashi!”

”Yes?” Keiji’s heart nearly jumped up to his throat when Bokuto said his name. He said it wrong, of course, doesn’t matter.

”About a few weeks ago, uh, if you don’t wanna do that ever again I’m totally fine with it. You’ve been a little more quiet and reserved and I can’t help but thinking it’s my fault.”

Keiji stilled, “Nothing is wrong. I like you all the same, Bokuto.”

Bokuto’s nose and cheeks turned a familiar shade of red, and he rubbed the nape of his neck with his palm, “Really?”

”Yes. But, I have to tell you something after the game, okay?”

”Okay.” Bokuto nodded breathlessly and followed Keiji back to the court. 

The stands were full with both Nekoma’s and Fukurodani’s cheer teams. The sounds of drums and trumpets filled Keiji’s ears and excited him. He was ready to play today.

Each team lined up on either side of the court and bowed, and Keiji made direct eye contact with Nekoma’s setter. Kenma, a bleach-blonde, short dude who’s hair was long enough to frame his chin. His pupils were blown wide, similar to a cat’s, in a sense.

The referee blew his whistle and Inaba moved up to serve. He took five steps back, Keiji noticed, and threw the ball up in the air. Not more than two seconds later, it slammed down on the court, Nekoma’s libero failing to receive it.

”Good job, Inaba!” Sarukui yelled, giving him a thumbs up.

”Thanks.” 

Inaba waited for the referee to blow his whistle again before taking seven steps back. Keiji heard the faint clacking of strong shoes against the hardwood. Inaba threw the ball up into the air, hitting it hard over the net.

The tall middle blocker, Kuroo, recieved it and sent it back over to Fukurodani’s side of the court. Washio received it and sent it to Keiji, who set the ball backwards to Bokuto.

He slammed the ball down on Nekoma’s side of the court, cheering wildly for himself as he watched Kuroo’s smirk drop. Keiji smiled too, accepting the high-five that Bokuto had offered.

Fukurodani was now on their last set against Nekoma. They’d won the first, and unfortunately lost the second. Keiji’s arms burned and his scalp itched from the layers of sweat that had built up against his skin.

Bokuto wasn’t taking their previous loss too well either, his eyes nervously darted around the gym and his breathing became irregular.

”Bokuto, calm down.” Inaba chided, glaring at his teammate.

”I _am_ calm, captain!” Bokuto whipped his head around and remarked wittily. 

He was not calm, in any sense. He awkwardly tugged at the roots of his bi-colored hair before hiding his face in his hands. Keiji assumed he felt helpless, granted, the reason they’d lost the previous set was because of one of his blocked spikes. It was partly Keiji’s fault, though, as he set slightly too low for him.

All forms of logic being thrown out the window, Keiji looked at his coach pleadingly, who called a time-out.

”Bokuto.” Keiji said sternly, and the boy looked up at him from where he’d hunched over on the ground. 

“‘Kashi...” Bokuto mumbled quietly, “Don’t set to me anymore!”

”Are you sure?” Normal Bokuto would freak out at even the thought of this request, but this was Dejected Bokuto, whom only died down when he received immense praise— namely from Keiji, but he refuses to get into that.

”I’m sure.” He said shakily, nodding his head as if to convince himself he was sure as well.

“Okay.”

The referee blew his whistle and Kenma served the ball over the net. Komi received it and sent it toward Washio, who choked out a one-touch from the other team.

Minutes felt like hours as they passed, and Keiji made sure to remind himself of the score. 19-23, Fukurodani was losing. Bokuto’s dejected mode had drawn out longer than he expected, so he figured it was time to pull out the big guns. He called for a second time-out, their last leg to get them back on track.

”You’re doing amazing, Bokuto.” Keiji called from his place on side of the court. Bokuto stilled, staring at Keiji in awe.

”You’re going to be the best Ace in Japan, I know it.” Bokuto audibly gasped, clutching the middle of his shirt tightly.

Someone on the other side of the court wolf-whistled and Keiji fought back the blush that continued to rise further and further up his neck, heating up his ears.

Keiji felt a surge of confidence jolt through him as he stepped over to Bokuto, standing on the balls of his feet to whisper in his ear, “You’re going to be a good captain, too.”

Bokuto screeched underneath his hand, which he’d clamped against his mouth as soon as Keiji began walking towards him.

” Yeah!” His voice was muffled, but Keiji could tell he’d bounced back completely. He honestly didn’t expect the captain idea to work, not that he was complaining.

The set continued, and Fukurodani scored a few more points, thanks to Keiji’s weird - and probably uncomfortable - way of riling Bokuto up. 

It wasn’t until Nekoma was at match point that Fukurodani really tried to amp up their attacks. With Bokuto in the front row, he could easily perform a line or cross-shot and get this over with.

So he did exactly that. The set was perfect, it soared towards Bokuto and almost stopped perfectly at the point of impact, before he hit it full force with his arm. The middle blocker, Kuroo, leaned his whole body to the side and sent Bokuto’s spike slamming back down on Fukurodani’s side of the court.

Everything was silent, not a cheer erupted from either side of the gym. Kuroo looked at Bokuto with his signature smirk, and gave him a high-five under the net. 

“The art of read-blocking, Ace.” 

“That was _awesome._ ” Bokuto beamed up at him, a wide grin spreading across his face.

”Better luck next time, boys!” Nekoma’s captain called.

Nekoma cheered loudly for themselves, even when they were set to bow on each side of the court. Keiji shook the hand of Nekoma’s setter, Kozume Kenma, and thanked him for being and inspiration.

”I didn’t want to come today, but Kuroo told me it was prelims, so I kind of had to.” Keiji snickered and bowed to him before returning to his team.

”We did our best!” Inaba pulled them in for a group hug. Keiji viewed from the outside, analyzing everyone’s expressions. None of them looked _sad_ , disappointed, maybe, but not sad.

When the hug broke, Konoha approached Keiji with a large smile on his face, as if they hadn’t just lost moments ago.

”Do you wanna go out to eat with me and a few other guys? You can invite Bokuto, if you want.”

Keiji pondered for a moment, _it wouldn’t be so bad,_ before replying, “Sure, I’ll let him know.”

Bokuto was busy talking with a few members from Nekoma, so Keiji took it to himself to make his way over to him.

”Bokuto.” 

Bokuto turned around, cheeks flushed with exasperation, “Akashi!!” 

“It’s Akaashi, anyways, did you want to come out to eat with Konoha and a few others?”

”Er, well, are you going? I thought you needed to tell me something?” _  
_

“Oh. Yeah, did you want to talk right now?”

”Yeah! Come on!” Bokuto motioned for Keiji to follow him before full-on sprinting out of the gym. Keiji reluctantly followed him until they reached a semi-secluded area around one of the gym’s doors.

”Talk whenever you’re ready. I won’t push.” 

“Okay.” 

Keiji gathered his thoughts, deciding on what exactly to open with. _So basically my dad thinks you’re grooming me and beats my ass cause of it,_ no, that’s too harsh. _My dad hits me a lot,_ no, that sounds weird.

”I think I’m being abused.” Keiji wished he could suck those words back into his mouth as soon as he said them, because Bokuto’s smile immediately vanished and replaced itself with a frown.

”What?” 

“I- um, my dad, he, he hits me. A lot.” _Shit shit shit this is not how it was supposed to go._

”Why...?” Bokuto’s eyes glossed over. Was he crying _for_ Keiji? 

“Just, whenever I’m a bad student, or I come home late, or I do something bad in his imagination.”

”Akaashi. Why didn’t you tell me?” Bokuto’s hands rubbed awkwardly on the fabric of his shorts. 

“I was scared, to be completely honest. Of him finding out.” 

“Was your black eye-“

”Yes.”

Bokuto paused for a moment, his bottom lip quivering in either anger or sadness.

”Fuck!” Keiji jumped back and stared up at Bokuto. _Did he really just curse?_ Bokuto’s hands lifted up slightly, opening and closing in a grabby motion.

”Please let me hug you.” Bokuto pleaded, eyes directed down at his shoes.

”Okay.” Keiji whispered before he felt the comfortable, warm feeling of Bokuto’s arms wrapped around him. He breathed in the familiar, yet somewhat disgusting, smell of sweat and cologne. 

His brain fogged over with comfortable heat, a warm, fuzzy feeling erupting from his chest and spreading all over his body. Bokuto, weirdly enough, felt safer than the people Keiji associated with safety. 

“Wait.” Bokuto gripped Keiji’s shoulders and pulled away from the hug, brown eyes boring into blue, “What’s your dad gonna do if he finds out you lost?”

 _Oh._ Keiji hadn’t thought of that, but his heart dropped upon hearing the words spill from Bokuto’s lips, “No idea.”

”Stay with me tonight.” Bokuto’s voice was barely a whisper, and it sent chills running up and down Keiji’s spine.

”Okay.”

The restaurant that the team went to was surprisingly nice for their budget. ‘Budget’ meaning the amount of cash the seven of them had pooled together. They chose a booth near the back, probably not the most logical place to sit considering Bokuto was pressed flush against Keiji’s side.

Keiji did _not_ admit that he’d chosen to sit all the way next to the wall in order for Bokuto to sit next to him. It was easier and less awkward that way, rather than Keiji saying “Hey! I don’t like being touched by anyone other than this idiot so I’m gonna sit here!”

Each of them ordered their ramen, and began the waiting game. Bokuto and Konoha incessantly complained about how hungry the both of them were, and it took everything inside Keiji to not slap them over the head with the menus. He constantly reminded himself of the pills he’d yet to take, and figured he’d just get it over with.

He effortlessly slipped the pill bottle out of his pocket, screwing open the lid and dropping two - larger - pills into the palm of his hand. This action didn’t go unnoticed by Bokuto and he quickly made loud assumptions of whether or not he could make the ice water in his glass boil by breathing on it.

Keiji dropped the pills onto his tongue and swallowed in time for Bokuto to accidentally drool into his cup of water. As the team laughed, the waitress brought their respective bowls of ramen and set them down neatly in front of everyone.

“Thank you!” They all said in unison as they dug in.

Bokuto slurped his noodles loudly beside Keiji, who silently observed as little drops of broth splattered themselves around his bowl. He smiled in between small slurps of ramen and turned his attention toward Konoha, who’s face was covered in disgust.

”You two like each other so much it makes me want to vomit.” Keiji winced. If his father ever found out that _this_ was happening, he’d be in for it. He was never one to follow every single one of his father’s rules, but this, this was the one he’d intended not to break.

Bokuto choked on his ramen before answering him, “You’re just jealous, right ‘Kashi?” 

“Yeah.” Keiji mindlessly agreed before staring back down at his bowl. 

Once they’d all slurped down the last few bits of broth in their bowls, the team decided to get going. Keiji stuck along with Konoha and Washio long enough to tell them that if his father asked, he was with them. Bokuto nodded wordlessly and brought Keiji to his apartment once more.

To Keiji’s surprise, Bokuto’s parents were home, giving him a small greeting as he entered the door.

”So, Keiji, how are you liking Fukurodani?” Ainosuke, Bokuto’s father, asked.

”It’s nice, it was one of my first choices, actually.” 

“Oh, that’s wonderful. I’m assuming it’s how you met Koutarou.” _Koutarou._ The word travelled aimlessly through Keiji’s brain.

”I actually met him over the summer, through one of my good friends.” 

“Ah. Did you take a liking to him quickly?” Bokuto’s mother pressed. _Did they know?_

”It did take me a while before I got used to his constant mispronunciation of my name, but I think I have a tolerance for it now.”

Bokuto had sat wordlessly through this conversation, allowing Keiji, the supposed smarter one of the two, to lead. 

Inside, Keiji was absolutely fuming. Fuming because he still didn’t know whether or not Bokuto’s parents knew about their little, shindig, from the other night. Fuming because he was more concerned about why they _wouldn’t_ because Bokuto had a massive mouth.

Then again, Bokuto had kept pretty quiet about Keiji’s whole pill thing, despite him accidentally reminding him to take his ‘drugs‘ in the middle of practice. He played that one of with a “Drugs! Ha.. ha! Like, like energy drinks.” 

Bokuto earned several annoyed glares that day. Mostly from Keiji.

”I hope he’s treating you well.” _Does that mean what I think it means?_ Keiji lightly bit his bottom lip, waiting for confirmation.

Bokuto’s father huffed, ”Let me know if he hurts you, I’ll beat his ass.” _Could you beat my dad’s ass?_

Bokuto’s hand hovered above Keiji’s for a moment, and he blinked his permission. His palm was warm against the back of Keiji’s hand, and images of his soft, pink lips scattered Keiji’s mind.

”Well, we have to be off soon, see you two in the morning. If you do anything, please don’t inform us.” Bokuto’s mother called before she and his father were out the door.

”Well. They know, at least.” Bokuto mumbled before bursting out into rambunctious laughter.

”At least they don’t care.”

”They want me to be happy, and you make me happy, so it’s really all that matters if you think about it.” Keiji nearly died, again, because Bokuto so-casually admitted that he made him happy.

”You make me happy too.” He choked out before placing a hand over his cheek to hide the very-deep blush that spread across his cheeks.

”Wanna go to my room?” Bokuto asked nonchalantly.

Keiji nodded and they both wordlessly made their way down the hall into the familiar bedroom. It was messier than before, Keiji didn’t think Bokuto had really prepared for him to come over. 

“I’m gonna kill your dad, once I become a famous volleyball player.” Bokuto grumbled, crossing his arms and scrunching his nose in disgust.

”Kill him before he kills me, I guess.” Keiji quipped back.

”Who said you could even _get_ killed? You look immortal.”

”And what exactly drove you to that conclusion?”

”You’ve got the whole, pale-skin-dark-hair look that vampires have, and they’re immortal so, boom.” Bokuto smiled, arms still crossed.

”I wish that was true, Bokuto.”

“You can, uh, sit down, again. If you want.” 

Keiji plopped down at the foot of Bokuto’s bed, running his hands over the dark blue comforter. Bokuto sat down quickly after, following the movements of Keiji’s hand.

“I really wanna kiss you.” Bokuto mumbled, leaning back on his headboard.

”I thought kissing back isn’t technically a kiss?” Keiji teased, and Bokuto threw his hands up in the air in exasperation.

“Please?! I’ll hit your sets for a week!” 

“Bokuto I think that’s more of a thing _you_ want to do.”

”Shut up! C-can I?”

”I didn’t necessarily object the f-“ Bokuto’s lips desperately crashed against Keiji’s.

Keiji kissed back with equal desperation and vigor, his hands running up and down the sides of Bokuto’s arms. He felt his muscles tense up ever so slightly, and nearly smiled so hard he had to break the kiss.

He swept his tongue along Bokuto’s bottom lip, asking for permission to enter. When Bokuto’s lips parted in an _unholy_ groan, he slipped his tongue in and licked along the roof of his mouth. Bokuto’s hands tugged at Keiji’s hair, and he nearly pulled away because that, very uncomfortably, reminded him of the time his father yanked his head back by the roots of his hair.

Instead, Keiji lead Bokuto’s hands down to his sides, where they subconsciously squeezed and pulled. Keiji didn’t know whether or not it was the mixture of Bokuto’s hands and lips pulling and prodding against him, or the fact that Bokuto was practically _panting_ into his mouth, that made him this excited, but it was definitely something.

So, the sudden surge of confidence that had possessed him earlier took over once more, and Keiji moved so he could straddle Bokuto’s lap. Bokuto took advantage of this and immediately broke the kiss to place wet, open-mouthed kisses on Keiji’s jaw. 

Keiji’s hips subconsciously rutted forward, earning either a fearful or excited gasp, and a strained curse, from Bokuto. He was about to slip off of him and apologize for basically grinding against him until Bokuto subconsciously - okay maybe not subconsciously - rutted up against Keiji’s shorts. 

Bokuto had taken a newfound interest in Keiji’s collarbone, biting and sucking at it as if it would be the last thing he’d ever tasted. Keiji mindlessly thrusted his hips forward, and Bokuto pulled his head back and gasped, loudly.

”Oh _fuck,”_ He mumbled into Keiji’s shoulder, holding him tight.

Keiji definitely did _not_ recognize the feeling that settled, hot and uncomfortable, in his groin. Something foreign built up in the pit of his stomach, and he relentlessly tried to chase it.

Bokuto must have felt it too, considering his jaw had gone slack and his pupils were blown wide. Keiji took the opportunity to press another chaste kiss against Bokuto’s mouth, a particularly loud moan reverberating throughout his throat.

”I think I’m gonna-“ Bokuto panted against Keiji’s shoulder, thrusting upwards in a reckless and un-methodical rhythm.

”M-me too.” Keiji mumbled, shoving his head against the soft fabric of Bokuto’s t-shirt. 

“‘Kashi, ‘Kashi, ‘Kashi, _Keiji!_ _”_ Bokuto whisper-yelled before cutting himself off with a wanton moan, eyes shut and eyebrows raised in pure bliss.

Keiji mumbled a few meaningless words into Bokuto’s shirt before his breath hitched and something _warm_ and _wet_ and _gross_ spilled into his underwear. Bokuto sputtered out something incoherent before kissing Keiji’s forehead.

”That was the best thing I have ever experienced in my entire life.” Bokuto laughed airily as if he had not just kissed the shit out of Keiji.

“I didn’t know that was physically possible.” Keiji shifted in the bed, a look of discomfort spreading across his face when he felt the dampness of his underwear.

”You’ve never-“

”No.”

”Oh shit. I really _am_ the coolest, aren’t I?” 

Keiji rolled his eyes before standing up and pulling out a few clothes from Bokuto’s closet. He changed silently in the bathroom, biting back a gag when his hand accidentally touched his slick-coated shorts. 

Both of them knocked out soon after that, sleep shutting their brains off and forcing their bodies to intertwine. The lights were off, but Keiji could still make out Bokuto’s soft smile before he fell too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hahaaaaaa this is the closest thing to smut that this fic is getting because GOD do I get so much second-hand embarrassment. Who know maybe I’ll write a disgusting /reader to get over my irrational fear.


	7. Signs & Symptoms & How to treat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good luck ;)

“I already fucking asked you, what is that _bullshit_ on your neck? And don’t lie to me and tell me it’s from fuckin’ volleyball, Keiji!” His father yelled, gripping him by the collar.

“It’s nothing! I swear!” Keiji screamed, clutching at his neck and trying to cover up the marks Bokuto had left the night before.

”It’s obviously not nothing, you _whore._ ” He spat, shoving his son against the wall.

Keiji’s feet had now risen up off of the floor, his hands aimlessly pulled at his father’s wrists, clawing at them desperately. His eyes were burning and his mouth was sore from screaming, but he couldn’t stop. Something had took hold of him, stripped away his comfort, and left him in a pool of his own muddied thoughts.

”I’m- I’m not a whore, I-I didn’t do anything, please, I _swear._ ” He sobbed, knocking the back of his head against the wall.

”Well someone must’ve done _something_ and that sure as hell wasn’t me!” He yelled into Keiji’s face, his hot breath uncomfortable against his cheeks.

”I-I’m sorry! No-othing happened! Please believe me, please, dad.” Keiji whimpered, biting his bottom lip in an effort to withhold his cries for help.

”Too bad I don’t believe you, you fucking bitch. I told you not to hang out with that shitface of a wing spiker too. Was it him? Huh? Are you a _slut_ for Bokuto Koutarou, hm?” 

Something in Keiji’s head snapped. His tears dried and his sobs ceased, and the only thing left to fend for was his overwhelming anger and hatred toward his father. 

Keiji heaved several deep breaths, and decided he was _not_ going to deal with this today, “Fuck you.” 

“ _What?_ ” 

“I said ‘fuck you’. You’re just hitting me because you’re mad mom left you and you need an ou—“ Keiji’s words were cut off with a heavy blow to the stomach. He groaned and crumpled to the floor, clutching his abdomen and writhing around the hardwood.

“Say that one more time.” 

“F-fuck y—“ His father’s shoe made contact with the side of his head, and Keiji’s body went slack. He couldn’t feel his hands, or his arms, or any appendage for that matter. The only thing he could feel was the sharp pain pulsating from both his stomach and his head.

He was yanked up by the collar, and felt something sharp hit the base of his spine, “If you pull this shit one more time I’m driving this so far into here you won’t be _able_ to get fucked by that asshole again. You hear me?”

Keiji’s brain buzzed and his head pounded, but somehow he found the energy to nod. The smallest of movements, yet it was what flipped the switch on his father. He walked into the kitchen, grabbing his keys off the counter and walking back into the doorway. 

“I’ll be back.” With that, his father was gone, and Keiji scrambled to his room. He screamed into his pillow, let his tears soak up the fabric, pulled harshly at the skin of his hands. 

Convincing himself that his father still loved him was the hardest thing he could do. For, Keiji loved his father just as much as he had on his seventh birthday. Just as much as he had the day he’d hit him the first time. 

Keiji’s heart sunk when he realized that he no longer loved his father. He loved the man he used to be, the father who cradled him when his mother couldn’t, the father who’s sweaters always smelled like home. He loved what he learned would never come back. Not since his seventh birthday.

The tears would dry inevitably, but the internal - and external - scabs would soon mold into scars. Things that would never leave, and paint his personality a completely different color. He wanted to disappear, leave without a trace, _escape._ What he’d once thought was being fixed now crashed down on him head-first. 

His mind muddied itself with thoughts of what he could do to rid himself of the pain. He _knew_ what he was doing was wrong. He shouldn’t have picked up his phone.

**Results for: Overdosing on Lorazepam**

Once he’d scrolled through the first few suicide awareness links, he finally found one that proved useful to him. Keiji scanned his eyes down the article, acknowledging the symptoms and signs and most importantly; how to treat it. 

Keiji huffed when he learned that most Lorazepam overdoses aren’t lethal. He’d just have to figure it out for himself. He pulled himself onto the bed, disregarding the dried blood on the side of his face, and the bruises developing on his sides where he’d fallen to the floor.

 **New Message! From:** _Bokuto <3_

B:

[Hey Keiji! R u ok? U didn’t text me]  
  


K:

[I’m fine. How are you]  
  


B:

[AMAZING (^^)]  
  


K:

[I’m glad, Bokuto.]  
  


B:

[You can call me Koutarou now! I mean, considering what we did last night it’s pretty understandable to call me that.]  
  


K:

[I will.]  
  


Keiji‘s eyes pricked with tears. The thought of leaving Bokuto hurt him. He was fine with escaping his father, escaping the pain, but now he had to confront the person who taught him that love shouldn’t feel suffocating. They spilled silently, warming up his cheeks and fogging his vision.

Sobs didn’t erupt from his throat, and wails didn’t echo around the apartment. Instead, small sniffs and quiet whimpers sounded throughout his room. Less pain had been inflicted on his body, but more had been inflicted on his mind. _What would he think? Will he hate me? For hurting him? For hurting myself._

Keiji picked himself up and ran to the living room, pulling the pill bottle out of his gym bag and dumping out, not two, but four pills into his palm. He took them and forced his esophagus to push them down, he winced as the capsules dragged along the skin of his pharynx.

Sucking in a deep breath and sighing, he awaited one of the first symptoms of overdose. It probably wasn’t the best idea to up his dosage by himself, but both Konoha and his father wouldn’t approve. Keiji assumed they’d make up some abnormal lie about how upping your dosage personally without consulting a doctor leads to addiction. _That will just make everything numb, won’t it? Perfect._

Unfortunately, Keiji needed to take a _lot_ more pills to get any signs or symptoms. He now took five each time he was supposed to take two. He didn’t take into account the fact that symptoms may show up during _practice_ of all times.

He found himself slumped against the wall, opening and closing his mouth like a fish, watching the room sway and distort. _Dizziness._

Inaba handed him a plastic water bottle and instructed him to drink it. Keiji could barely swallow, and his tongue was so dry he feared it would harden. He took small sips of water, pretending not to notice Koutarou’s awkward stares and stolen glances. Keiji feared Bokuto would see right through him, past the thick exterior. He’d made it once, when Keiji actually allowed himself to open up, and whose to say he hasn’t already figured something out.

Konoha had prodded, too, offering to call the police and mentioning his extra bedroom in his apartment if Keiji ever needed a place to stay. He confirmed he could manage on his own, after all, he didn’t need to be coddled, might as well act like the mature adult his father whipped him to be.

He talked back more often, and came to practice with more bruises, black eyes, even a broken nose. Keiji was well into his second year, now, and it was just his luck that they’d lost at nationals. His head throbbed with disappointment and guilt and he just wanted to disappear again.

“You okay?” Koutarou asked, his voice gentle, _too_ gentle. Keiji could have bounced back into shape right then and there, just from hearing his voice.

”’M fine.” He mumbled, taking another small swig from the water bottle.

Koutarou pursed his lips and pressed a kiss to Keiji’s forehead, smiling as he stood up and walked away. Keiji’s stomach churned and he wished he hadn’t decided to leave. It should be easy, not going through with it, he has so many people who love and care for him, so many people willing to help. Yet, he couldn’t seem to drag himself from the bottomless pit that infected his thoughts.

Koutarou’s graduation would be in a few months. Keiji would hopefully be gone by then, as to not ruin him during college. If Keiji escaped before Koutarou had built his life around him, there would be less room to hurt. Less time to mourn.

His coach had asked Koutarou to take him home, Keiji reluctantly agreed to walk with him.

”So..Keiji, are you really feelin’ okay?” Koutarou mumbled, pulling at his thumbs.

”I’m fine, Koutarou. I probably didn’t drink enough water.” Keiji sighed, running long fingers through thin hair.

”Are you sure? You can come over to my place if you want- I mean.”

”Remember the last time I did that, Koutarou. I nearly got murdered.”

”Why won’t you let us help you, Keiji?” Koutarou’s voice cracked, and _maybe_ Keiji felt bad. 

“I’m doing just fine on my own.”

”You’re not, though. You can barely play during practice and you sleep all day during off-days and I can never see you and it-“ Koutarou cut himself off with a sigh, his lips pressed into a thin line.

Keiji closed his eyes and stopped walking, clutching his jacket for any semblance of warmth, “Keep talking. You listened to me, the least I can do is listen to you.”

”No, the least you can do is let us help you before you get seriously hurt. What would we do if you did? What would _I_ do?”

”I told you I’m managing fine on my own.”

”And _I_ told you that you’re not. I need to help you because how else am I supposed to love you if you keep running away? Y’know Keiji, the day I met you I thought you were _beautiful_ , stunning, gorgeous, even. I couldn’t stop staring at you and when you flinched away I thought I’d done something wrong,

”And- and that night you came over to my house, and we fucking _kissed,_ god, I didn’t know how hard I was going to fall until I did. But when you stopped initiating things, and then just, came back as if everything had been normal, it hurt, I’ll give you that.” He breathed, pausing to think.

”Keiji, just you _speaking_ to me sends me into a state that I can’t even recognize, it’s like you’re taking ahold of my brain and killing me with your beauty and every time I think of you getting hurt it just makes me want to die. Please, if you- if you ever thought of doing something to yourself, _don’t._ I w-wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”

Keiji’s cheeks heated up and his eyes fogged over with tears he willed not to fall. Koutarou was now just a blurry outline of disproportionate features. Keiji blinked, and he became clear. His cheeks and nose were flushed, index finger and thumb pushed into the corners of his eyes to stop the tears from falling.

”I’m so sorry, Koutarou. I didn’t know you felt that way.” Keiji rubbed his upper arm and placed a soft kiss on his hand before walking away.

 _Fuck this. Fuck life fuck everything fuck it all._ Keiji mumbled curses to himself the entire way home, digging his nails so hard into the palm of his hand he could feel the familiar, warm dampness of blood.

When he reached the same apartment he’d learn to dread, he was overcome with hatred and disgust. He trudged up the familiar stairs and shoved his key in the door’s lock, opening it and bathing himself in warm light.

”Welcome home, Ji!” His father called from the living room, and Keiji’s heart began to pound in his chest.

”Hey.” 

“How was practice? You’re home early.”

Keiji blinked, “It was fine. I got sick so they told me to leave.”

”Do you need to go to the hospital?”

”No.” Keiji said, a little too quickly for comfort.

“..Okay.” 

Keiji padded into his room, flicking the switch on his lamp and pulling his phone out of his gym bag. 5 missed messages.

K:

[Dude, did you do something to Bokuto? He’s super mopey rn]  
[Like ‘WAAH’ kinda mopey, but just a little less.]  
[Did you break up w/ him?]  
[He told us he practically confessed his undying love for u and u just went (•_•)]  
  


K:

[I got overwhelmed.]  
  


K:

[Oh and you weren’t overwhelmed the night u made out on his bed huh.]  
  
K:

[Thats a low blow even for you, Konoha.]  
  


K:

[It’s deserved. I mean come on you kiss the guy and tell him you ‘like him all the same’ and then you pull this]  
  


Keiji sighed, turning off his phone and pressing his face into his pillow. If only Konoha understood, he’d be able to—

 **Call from:** _Konoha_

“Hello.” Keiji said, uninterested.

”What happened to you, man?”

”What do you mean?” Keiji’s blood pounded in his ears, and his mouth went completely dry.

”Bokuto’s bullshit isn’t easy to fix, and you’re the one who keeps causing it. He thinks you _hate_ him.”

”I- I don’t hate him.”

”You have a shit way of showing it, then. Have you been taking your medication?” _Yes. More than enough, actually._

”Yes.”

”Hm. Okay, well, you’re going to talk to Bokuto whether you like it or not.”

”Okay. Bye, Konoha.”

”Peace out.”

Keiji tried to take a deep breath in, he tried, but his lungs wouldn’t accept the air. He decided on taking short, shallow, _calm_ breaths instead. His head throbbed, and he mindlessly peeled off his clothes and slipped underneath his comforter. Nothing about Keiji was peaceful, or healthy. Nothing about him was _whole_ anymore.

The wind bit at Keiji’s nose, and blew through the thin fabric of his t-shirt. He shuddered, because of both nervousness and the drop in temperature. He was going to talk to Koutarou today, and hopefully make his awkward and slurred words less suspicious. _Slurred speech._

He’d forgotten the previous date they were supposed to meet, which resulted in a very furious Konoha and a somewhat-dejected Koutarou.

Keiji knocked on the door to Koutarou’s apartment, resting his fist upon the wood for a moment before it opened. Koutarou smiled, but the look in his eyes resembled something much closer to panic.

”What? Is there something on my face?”

”Keiji, your lips are _blue._ ” _Oh._ Keiji figured it must be a symptom of the over-achieving amount of medicine he’d been taking.

”I hadn’t noticed.” He said with a shrug, walking through the doorframe and slipping off his shoes.

He walked down the familiar hallway, breathing in the familiar scent of Koutarou’s laundry detergent, only to sit down on the all-too-familiar corner of his bed. He folded his legs and looked up at him expectantly, waiting for him to utter the first word.

”What happened to you?” Koutarou looked at him, fear etched in every feature of his face.

”Nothing. I think I’ve been doing much better, I’ve been taking my medication, and—“

”No. What _really_ happened?” He pressed, sitting down next to him.

”How do you want me to answer, Koutarou?” 

“Honestly.” 

Keiji sighed, trying to figure out how to lie to him. He prodded at the skin on the back of his left hand, pinching and pulling as if that would help him gather his thoughts.

”I don’t think it’s working out.” _Shit. That’s not how it was supposed to go shit shit shit._

”What?” Koutarou whispered, looking up at Keiji through thick eyelashes. He chewed on his bottom lip and Keiji could see his eyes glossing over.

”That’s not- I don’t-“ Keiji sputtered, his hands moving around awkwardly in a failing attempt to change the subject. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in between two fingers, “I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

“ _Why_?” Koutarou’s voice was small, a terrifying contrast to his physical appearance.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

”But _why_?”

”I’m not- I’m not in the right headspace for doing,” He paused to twist his finger around in the air between them, “ _This._ ”

“Then I’ll wait for you! I’ll be here any time you need me, I’ll be ready for you, I promise.” Koutarou tried to press a smile onto his face, but the tears fell before he could mask them.

”I’m sorry, Koutarou, but no.” Keiji sat up from the bed, slipping out into the hallway. He tried to breathe, but the air seemed to only reach his throat before it was forced back out again.

“Keiji- _please_.” Koutarou pleaded, following him out into the living room. 

Keiji fumbled with the door handle, pulling it open and sticking one foot out of the door. He forced himself forward, but his body did not respond as someone yanked him back by the wrist. He made a strained noise of defeat and ripped his arm out of Koutarou’s grip, anger bubbling up in his throat, hot and venomous.

” _Koutarou!_ ” He yelled, slapping his arms against Koutarou’s chest. He kicked the door shut behind him, backing up as far as he could against the wood.

”Do you _want_ to know why I’m avoiding you?! Do you _really_ think you can handle it? Because- god damnit! I can barely handle it myself.” He raised his arms animatedly to show his exasperation.

”Koutarou, ever since I _fucking_ moved here, I felt like I wasn’t really here. Like I’d never really detached from who I was as a kid. I sat and _watched_ as I turned into someone I wish I’d never become,

”And I really thought that it had gone away, with you, and how perfect you are. I thought you could fix me, _hell,_ I thought you _did_ , but, then everything got so much worse and I couldn’t fucking keep it away. It just- it hurt so much and—“ Keiji paused, clutching at his chest for air. He saw the color drain from Koutarou’s face, tears slowly streaming down the apples of his cheeks.

”No, no Keiji I’m here I can- I can help you! Come on, I’m always going to be here and I can learn how to make you better.” Koutarou said lightheartedly, and Keiji’s stomach dropped.

” _You_ can’t help. You’ve probably known longer than I could that I _can’t_ deal with this, so why did you get attached? Why did you pick someone who you knew would cause you pain?” Keiji spat, staring at the floor.

”I thought- I thought things would be different. I wanted to try, I wanted to help you, Keiji. I thought that maybe if I’d done something different I’d be able to fix you.” He muttered, shoulders dropping in defeat.

”I’m sorry, _Bokuto._ ” Keiji turned and left his apartment, the familiar brightness of the street lamps illuminating the sidewalk and accentuating the shine of his shoes. His breathing was slow, short, and it brought a wave of serenity to his head.

” _Keiji, your lips are blue.”_ Koutarou’s words choked his brain, infected his mind and shattered his soul. He was going to die like this, not calmly, not happily, not when he was old and wrinkly and married to Bokuto Koutarou. No, he was going to die because the oxygen that once kept him alive, would no longer filter out the carbon dioxide.

The waiting game is tiring and stressful, but it poses the most beautiful results. Keiji smiled softly to himself as he made his way home. 

He didn’t care, not even when his father cuffed him on the back of the head for being home late, not even when he had to breathe through his mouth when he slept because he could feel the asphyxiation crawling into his throat when he breathed through his nose. He ignored Koutarou and Konoha’s missed calls, their desperate pleas.

Akaashi Keiji’s last memory of sentience is the summer after he broke up with Bokuto Koutarou.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! I’m doing a lot of research on the effects of overdosing on Lorazepam, because unlike Xanax it actually has long term effects to overdose as opposed to just...death. I do have something in the works for chapter 8 which will probably be the last chapter, but no worries!! I am writing a TsukiYama fic right now <3


	8. firsts and lasts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay i lied this is not the last chapter, but rather the last chapter that pertains to the plot. enjoy!

K:

[Ko, are you sure he’s coming?]

K:

[YES BOKUTO FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY CALM DOWN]

K:

[Oh okay!]

Koutarou smiled down at his phone and pressed his index finger on the ‘off’ button before dropping it into his gym bag and running to the other side of the court. He picked up a stray volleyball and rolled it around between his hands, feeling the rubber drag along his calloused palms.

Overcome with excitement, he half-heartedly served the volleyball with his left hand, failing to notice a certain raven-haired first year slipping through the doors. The boy ducked and made a noise that was the farthest thing from human that Koutarou could imagine, seriously it sounded like a screech.

He ran toward the boy, the heat in his face much more evident now, “Oh my god! I am _so_ sorry,” Clamping a hand over his mouth, Koutarou felt the need to explain himself more, “I really didn’t mean to do that!”

The brunette looked up at him, and, _woah_ was he beautiful, surely this couldn’t be Konoha. Something about the way his eyebrows cinched, or how his lips pursed in relief, maybe it was the hair that framed his eyes, or the way his nose was scrunching in disgust— wait, _disgust_?

”It’s fine.” He said while getting up off the floor. 

“No really it’s no- hey! Who are you? You don’t look like Konoha, unless he dyed his hair, but your eyes are different, at least I think so..” Koutarou trailed off, tapping his bottom lip in thought.

“Akaashi Keiji, pleasure to meet you.” _A beautiful face and a beautiful name?! I think I’m gonna meet god soon._

A new feeling of confidence coursed through Koutarou’s veins, “Oh! I’m Bokuto Koutarou, does the name ring any bells?” He asked animatedly, raising his eyebrows at a jarring speed.

Surprisingly, Akaashi hit the nail on the head, “One of Japan’s top three Aces, right?”

”Yup!” Bokuto smiled, “I’m only surpassed by Ushiwaka and that stupid first-year prodigy, Sakusa with the bendy wrists.” 

Konoha appeared next to Akaashi, a large smile on his face that nearly reached his eyes, “Hey guys!”

Koutarou grinned, waving dramatically at his friend, “Hey, Ko!”

“Hey.” Akaashi muttered, looking way more uncomfortable than Koutarou thought a human could look.

”You two sure are getting along. How about we do a bonding exercise?” He asked, his smile turning dangerously close to a mischievous smirk.

“What does it entail, my little pupil?” Koutarou teased while ruffling Konoha’s hair.

”You can spike Akaashi’s set’s!” Konoha said proudly, his hands resting on his hips.

Koutarou’s brain turned to complete and utter mush, _Akash- Ahkaa- Akaashi! Is a setter??_

“Is he a setter?” Koutarou asked, hoping he didn’t sound too in-awe.

”One of my personal favorites, actually!”

Koutarou turned toward Akaashi, biting back a smile and forcing his legs not to jump around with excitement, “Do you wanna?”

Akaashi nodded and Koutarou grinned, a giggle finding its way through his throat and out of his mouth. He walked back onto the court, slapping his knees and stretching out his arms while he watched Konoha whisper something to Akaashi.

”Ko! Come toss that ball up for ‘Kashi and I!” He yelled, hoping neither of them noticed the fact that he’d forgotten Akaashi’s name.

”My name’s Akaashi.” _Of course he noticed._

Koutarou resisted the urge to smack himself upside the head before coming up with a somewhat-witty comeback, he’d heard a word from one of the girls in his literature class and he decided to make the best use out of it, “Y’know, I might just call you ‘Apathy’ instead, you could stand to be a little more fired up.”

”Ah, sure.” _Aw._ Koutarou smiled and waited for Konoha to toss the ball to Akaashi.

When he did, Bokuto watched intently as Akaashi set the ball perfectly to him. He jumped and wound his arm to slam the ball against the floor on the other side of the court. _Hell yeah!_

”Oh my god! ‘Kashi! That was amazing!” Koutarou yelled, pumping his fists in the air, “Can you do that again?” 

Akaashi nodded and set to Koutarou thirty more times. Each time, Koutarou would plead for him to set again, just _one more time_ and then they could stop!

Koutarou jumped with joy each time Akaashi set to him, the biggest smile spreading across his face and making his cheeks hurt. Akaashi was weirdly _perfect._

Akaashi grinned and Koutarou’s heart fluttered a little, “Thank you for hitting my sets, Bokuto.”

“Thank _you,_ ‘Kashi!” Koutarou laughed while throwing a fist in the air, silently celebrating his spikes.

Konoha pulled on Akaashi’s t-shirt and dragged him towards the door to the gym, “Sorry, Bokuto! Akaashi’s gotta be home by sundown!”

Cocking his head, Koutarou shrugged and waved a goodbye, taking his time to make sure that the two were well out of earshot before screeching into his hand.

“Oh my god.” He whispered to himself, giddiness filling his chest. 

Koutarou decided to leave the gym early, definitely not because he could maybe be able to see where Akaashi’s at and go talk to him more. Definitely not.

He slid off his shirt, trading it in for a grey zip-up and slipping out of the changing rooms. The night air was cold, and it nipped at his lips before he bit down on them to make sure they wouldn’t get chapped.

When Koutarou reached his apartment, he clambered up the steps excitedly to tell his parents who he’d met. Opening the door, he called out to his mother, who seemed to be making something in the kitchen.

”Hey Mom!” 

“Welcome home, Koutarou!” She sung, stepping out of the kitchen to wave to him, “Your father will be home soon, we don’t have work until early morning.”

”Awesome! Whatcha makin’?” He asked while setting his bag down on the floor, taking his shoes off quickly after.

”Guess!”

”Smells like.. hm.. yakiniku?”

”Ding ding ding! Yes, sweetheart!” 

“Awesome!” He smiled, running to his room to grab a pair of pajamas.

Koutarou took a quick shower, ‘quick’ meaning he may have only rinsed the gel out of his hair enough for it to _not_ be sticky. But he washed his body! Cut him some slack.

He rubbed a towel over his hair and hooked it onto the door before sliding out of the bathroom and into the kitchen, where his mother was setting the table. He grabbed the plates out of her arms and placed them himself, grinning widely as he did so.

”What’s got you all fired up?” She asked, quirking a thin eyebrow.

”I met someone today, he’s super cool, and he’s a setter, and he’s really pr- smart!” He giggled, placing chopsticks beside the plates on the table.

”He sounds wonderful, now eat or else you’ll end up falling asleep in your food!”

Koutarou hummed and let his mother place some of the barbecued meat onto his plate. He ate quickly, shoving a too-much-to-be-eaten-with-a-closed-mouth portion into his face and groaning in pleasure.

”Ish ih erighoush!” He attempted to say, but when he saw his mother’s confused expression he swallowed his food and explained himself, “This is delicious!”

”I know, now, it’s late, so you should sleep.”

”Okay okay I know!”

Koutarou padded into his room and immediately turned on his phone, sending Akaashi a few questionable texts before he fell asleep with his phone on his face.

Koutarou usually wakes up in pure peace, with the sound of birds chirping outside his window. Today was anything but. He _could_ have said it was because he was still shaken up from his breakup, but, let’s be real. It happened two months ago, he doesn’t even deserve to still feel sad at this point.

The twenty-three missed calls from Konoha, the nine from his parents, and one from Keiji himself pulled him out of his mood _real_ fast.

Thankfully, Konoha left a couple voicemails, which Koutarou managed to listen to sleepily.

”Hey man, uh, do you know where Akaashi is?”

”Dude! Get up! I’m getting worried.”

”You might wanna come to the hospital.”

”God damnit! Get your ass over here before I run to your house and yank you to the hospital in your fucking boxers! Akaashi’s unconscious, you shithead.”

Koutarou sprang up out of the bed immediately, throwing on a - probably dirty - pair of sweats and an old coat he’d received as a birthday present last year.

His heart rammed against his ribs and threatened to burst out of his chest, sending a familiar feeling of guilt and nausea into his throat.

Koutarou made a definitely-not-human noise and ran down the steps of his apartment complex, nearly falling down the last flight of stairs.

He fumbled with the buttons on his phone and somehow managed to call Konoha in the process.

”Hello?”

”Konoha?” Koutarou said, out of breath.

”Get over here as soon as you can!”

”Okay! I’m running!”

”You’re running?”

”What else am I supposed to do?”

”Just hurry.”

Koutarou hung up the phone, sprinting across cold side streets and through wet alleyways. His head pounded and every single one of his limbs shook in anticipation. Koutarou paused, nailing the palm of his hand to his forehead, “Calm down, everything is okay.” He whispered to himself, not even believing his own voice.

The hospital contrasted gruesomely with the cheerful air surrounding it. A stark-white box pressed in front of lush trees and flowerbeds. Koutarou pushed his way through the doors, the tears in his eyes reaching the brink of spilling over his cheeks and letting everyone know how distraught he was.

He rushed up to the desk, staring at the clerk with wide and bloodshot eyes, “Here for Akaashi Keiji.”

Her smile dropped, and she typed something that Koutarou couldn’t recognize into her computer, “Level Two, room 189.”

”Thank you.” He whispered, before running off into one of the winding hallways. The fluorescents burned the backs of his eyelids, made his head throb, made him do everything he was forcing himself not to do.

He nearly bumped into a doctor sauntering down the halls, a metal desk lined neatly with several different knives and scarily sharp scissors. Koutaro sprinted over the tile, careful not to slip on anything before he reached Akaashi’s room.

The door was shut, and locked. Koutarou looked around frantically, bunching his hands in the roots of his hair, looking for someone to _help._

 _“_ Welcome to the waiting game, Bokuto.” Koutarou jumped and whipped his head around, meeting eyes with a very disheveled Konoha.

”Oh my god.” Koutarou crumpled onto him and cried against his shoulder, the tears hot and wet as they clouded his vision. Konoha stumbled back with the added wait, but kept his balance, “We should go sit.”

”Yeah.” Koutarou mumbled against his shoulder, picking his head up and dabbing at the tears in the corners of his eyes with his sleeve.

Konoha guided him to a room full of leather chairs. Koutarou sat down, staring at his lap and pulling at his thumbs.

”Is he gonna be okay?”

”No idea. We don’t even know what’s wrong.”

”We?”

”Me and Akaashi’s dad.”

Koutarou’s head snapped up and anger replaced the sadness that had once filled him to the brim, his fists clenched, along with his jaw, as he scanned the room for that _asshole._

”He’s with him right now. Only immediate family is allowed.”

”Oh.” Koutarou’s fists were still clenched, gripping onto the handles of the waiting chairs just in case Mr. Akaashi decided to come out at any given time.

After about 12 hours - five minutes - a nurse finally came out of Akaashi’s room, a small hint of a frown on her face. 

“I’m sorry—“ Koutarou stood up before she could finish, his bottom lip quivering in fear of the inevitable and himself. Everything in the room blurred, and it was as if someone had stuffed cotton deep into the canals of his ears. 

Konoha’s voice came out muffled, and Koutarou could only register the head of blonde hair in front of him that had grasped onto his arm. He pushed it away, seemingly in slow motion before rushing to Akaashi’s room.

Akaashi’s father stepped out, and every single one of Koutarou’s senses came back to him in a disgusting, simultaneous, bomb. His ears rung and he was painfully aware of the doctor’s eyes on him, but no warning could prepare him for what he saw in the blue-walled hospital room.

Akaashi’s once beautiful, angular, _perfect,_ face had become something so much more sinister. Pale eyelids drooped, covering blue irises. Dark purple crescents painted themselves underneath his eyes. A faint, bluish tint dusted over his lips. Worst of all, the heart monitor’s screen depicted a flatline.

Koutarou gasped, clutching at the doorframe for support. His knees buckled underneath him, threatening to send him crashing to the floor. His sobs ripped their way out of his chest, ricocheting off the walls and flooding right back into his ears.

” _Akaashi!”_ He wailed, his voice hoarse and raspy. A large hand tugged at his shoulder, and he almost leaned into the touch. _Almost._

He turned, waiting as the face came into focus. His sobs stopped, only to be replaced by a low, menacing rumble that could only be classified as a growl. Koutarou clenched his fists once more, this time winding up his right arm and hitting Akaashi’s father square in the nose.

Blood splattered onto the white tile, and Koutarou dropped to his knees, hiding his face in his hands while the sobs echoed around the hallways once more. Akaashi’s father writhed around on the floor, clutching at his nose. Violent sputtering and choking sounds mixed disgustingly with Koutarou’s wails and gags.

Doctors gripped at his arms, pulling him out of the room. He went limp, staring blankly as he was dragged out of the room where Akaashi died. The tears could no longer fall, and his throat burned from the vomit that had unintentionally pushed its way into his mouth.

All he could register was the disgusting glare of fluorescent lights against pale white tile. It was all he pushed himself to register, for his brain would no longer accept much else.

He slumped against the squeaky leather of a waiting room chair, tilting his head back so it rested against the cushion. His arms draped over the rests, hands shaking in a disheartening rhythm.

He closed his eyes, the images of Akaashi lying there, _lifeless,_ splattered across his brain. He wished he could have done more. He _know_ he could have done more, he could have prevented _this_.

Sleeping that night wasn’t easy. His parents periodically opened his door to check on him, backing away quietly once they’d seen his wide eyes staring up at the ceiling because he didn’t have the energy to close them anymore. He didn’t want to close them anymore, he tried to force the image of his first love out of his brain and replace it with something better, something that didn’t hold so much guilt and regret.

He checked his phone for the forty-seventh time in a row, hoping that maybe, just _maybe,_ Akaashi would text him and tell him it was all some gruesome joke. That he’d be back in school next year and just had to take a really long vacation. 

He looked at his voicemails from Konoha, listening to each one before sleep took its toll on him. It clouded his brain, but this time, oddly enough, it was comforting. Something about it was warm, and Koutarou welcomed it with open arms.

“You know, Akaashi. For a dying soul, you sure made the best life out of mine.” He whispered to no one. 

The next morning, the sun drifted through the blinds of his windows and cascaded along the furniture in his room. The soft, steady chirping of the songbirds outside peeled him out of whatever sleep had taken hold of him.

He remembered Akaashi’s face, those beautiful, _beautiful_ features he could just sit and stare at. The soft chuckle he’d let out when Koutarou managed to do something stupid, and the sarcastic comment he’d make afterwards. The hands that were so perfect for holding, kissing, setting. 

His phone rang, loud, and he fumbled with it before answering, “Hello?”

”I’m on my way with Kenma, we’re going to talk.”

”O-okay.” Koutarou released a shaky breath as he set his phone down on his stomach.

Kuroo and Kenma arrived later, Koutarou doesn’t remember how long. They walked into his room and sat down on the floor, which was covered in pictures of him and Akaashi.

Kuroo spoke first, “I’m so sorry, dude.”

”I don’t want your pity. It’s my fault.”

”What? No it’s _not._ ” 

“It is.”

”No, you have it wrong, Akaashi is— _was_ , fucked up in the brain. Nothing could have stopped it and you know it.” Kuroo said sternly, relaxing as Kenma placed a hand on his forearm.

”Fine.”

”Bokuto, you can’t let Akaashi distract you from anything. I know that it’s only been a day but a day is what can change it all and you know that.”

”By that logic you’re saying that if I was with him a day before, he wouldn’t be gone?”

”That’s not what I’m saying at _all_ , you need to bring back your drive, Bokuto.”

”Akaashi _was_ my drive.” He muttered, shoving his face into the pillow beside him.

”He still _can_ be!” Kuroo projected, earning a noiseless slap from Kenma.

”How?” Koutarou sighed, placing his forearm over his eyes.

”He was your inspiration right? It’s still possible for him to inspire you. Just think of how proud he is of you every time you play!”

”Uh-huh.” Koutarou said, barely believing a word that came out of Kuroo’s mouth.

”Just try it, okay? Here, my inspiration is Kenma, he makes me want to play better and I genuinely feel like a better person when I’m with him. Kenma’s inspiration is—“

”Shouyou.” Kenma cut off, shuffling his feet on the floor.

”Yeah, whatever, but you see, Bokuto, you can be inspired by anything. That’s what drives you to play, honestly it’s what drives you to be the best you possibly can be.”

Koutarou opened his mouth as if to speak, but closed it once he realized there was no amount of sarcastic quips that could prepare him for Kuroo actually being _right._

”Okay.” Koutarou breathed, looking down at his friends from his place on the bed, “Akaashi’s my drive.”

”That’s more like it.” Kuroo smiled and stood up, whispering something to Kenma before he exited the room.

Kenma stared up at Koutarou, gauging the situation and most likely figuring out what to say that would bring the best outcome. 

“It hurts, right?” He asked, words too soft to be anything but genuine.

”Like hell.” 

“It’s still going to hurt. For a while, once you realize it’s possible to live without him. That fact alone is jarring.”

Koutarou blinked, furrowing his eyebrows before Kenma spoke again, “You’ll learn to realize that Akaashi didn’t do that out of hatred, but rather, he learned that you could handle yourself on your own enough to where he wasn’t scared to do it. He believes in you, Koutarou.”

Kenma nodded silently and turned, leaving Koutarou stunned and quiet underneath his comforter. He sat up slowly, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

Koutarou slipped off the bed, feet moving quietly across the floor as he gently picked up every single picture of Akaashi he’d thrown off his desk the night before. Carefully, he taped them to the wall, replacing the pictures of himself alone. 

Once he had finished, he stepped back and looked at his wall, once egotistical and full of itself, it now harbored beautiful views of Akaashi’s side profile, which he’d begged to take. Paired with a few random yearbook cutouts that Koutarou probably shouldn’t have been so adamant about cutting out. He smiled, humming the soft song he’d heard Konoha play for him that day two years ago. 

The song that Konoha told him was Akaashi’s favorite.

_Lights will guide you home_

_And ignite your bones_

_And I will try_

_To fix you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the next chapter will feature a certain v-league team and a certain time-skip panel. woop! also: keiji died from acute respiratory acidosis, which occurs when you overdose on sedatives. unfortunately, its not mentioned because his father didnt really care too much abt his death :/ sooooo yeah!


	9. Motivation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> boom! within an hour of chapter 8!

The stadium went silent as the ball slammed on the other side of the court. Everything seemed to move in slow motion, and the only thing Koutarou heard was the blood thrumming in his own ears.

Half of the stadium erupted into vigorous cheers, and Koutarou jumped up and down, cheering for himself and his teammates. They won. They did it.

”Hell yeah!” He yelled, patting Atsumu on the back. The blonde turned and gave him a hug, which he reciprocated with equal excitement.

”This was the most fun game I’ve ever played.” Atsumu laughed into his jersey before peeling away. He caught sight of Sakusa, who appeared to be giving free high-fives, and ran.

Hinata appeared beside Koutarou, jumping with joy and smiling a bright and toothy smile that nearly closed his eyes. They cheered, fragments of happy tears drying on their cheeks as they headed out of the stadium.

”I can’t believe we did it!” Hinata laughed, squeezing the shoulder of Tobio Kageyama himself, “Can’t believe you finally beat me? You need to think higher of yourself, jesus.”

Hinata rolled his eyes and jumped up to place a soft kiss on his cheeks. Koutarou remembered that feeling, the light buzzing in his ears, the hot blush that dusted his cheeks. 

Then, reporters appeared, cornering each player and asking them what they felt about the game, things they could have done better. The reporter that pulled Koutarou aside seemed to have an ulterior motive, however, when she started speaking.

”So, Bokuto—“

”Call me Koutarou!” He smiled, looking directly into the camera.

”Koutarou. In the middle of the game you seemed to be staring up at the stadium ceiling, fans are reporting to us that you were cheering something about your world?”

”Oh yeah! Keiji. God, I love him.”

”You have a partner currently?” She eyed him suspiciously.

”Ah- no! He was um— he’s my motivation. He drives me to push as far as humanly possible.”

”Tell us about this, _Keiji._ ”

”Well, I remember how he used to tease me, and make fun of my hair, and kiss me like I was the only person on earth. But I guess it’s not really remembering if I never forgot.”

”Where is he now?”

”Dunno. Probably watching this interview, scolding me for talking about him kissing me. He’s always been kinda wary about that stuff, but, too late now, Keiji!” Koutarou laughed.

Another reporter whispered to the woman holding the microphone, and she turned to Koutarou with an amused smile on her face, “We have recent reports of fans mentioning the tattoo on the back of your knee, care to explain?”

Koutarou bent at an awkward angle to look at the tattoo in the crook of his knee. A picture he’d taken of him and Keiji in highschool.

”That’s me and Keiji! I wanted a memento of him, and what funnier place to put it than the back of my knee. I _was_ gonna put it on my butt, but Kuroo told me that I would ruin the ‘gold’ or whatever.” 

The reporter laughed and waved him off, allowing him to get back to his team. Sakusa ended up next to him, mask pressed against his nose too tight to seem comfortable.

”You told them?” Koutarou sighed. He’d drunkenly exposed the entire ‘Akaashi’ thing to Sakusa a few months back. Not his best moment.

”Yeah. Figured I should learn to live with it. ‘S not embarrassing or anything, so, why not.”

”Good on you, then.” Sakusa hummed, and Atsumu bounded up to the both of them, “Who’s this ‘Keiji’ you were talkin’ about? How come ya didn’t tell Shou and I?”

Almost on que, Hinata clapped Koutarou on the shoulder, “Yeah! Is he pretty?”

”When yer with _Tobio,_ Shou, anyone is pretty by yer standards.” Atsumu drawled, flicking the ginger on the side of the head behind them.

”Hey! Not my fault you like gorgeous model guys like Sakusa!” He chirped, sticking his tongue out at the blonde.

Sakusa made a sound that resembled a gag and moved away from the four, Atsumu trailing close behind.

”Y’know Hinata I think Keiji would fit in well with yours and ‘Tsumu’s boyfriends.” 

“Awesome!”

Koutarou smiled up at the ceiling, raising his hand in an apology. 

And Keiji smiled back.

_And high up above or down below_

_When you’re too in love to let it go_

_But if you never try you’ll never know_

_Just what you’re worth_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> may or may not have cried while writing this chapter. stay tuned for TsukiYama (i promise nobody dies in that one!


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